


31 Things about Phil Coulson

by AirTrafficControl



Series: Pips [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Phil is Phil, Pips - Freeform, Pips is also Phil, What Have I Done, also on ff.net, assortment of random moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 06:23:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 24,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1418274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirTrafficControl/pseuds/AirTrafficControl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>31 short semi-related fics about Phil Coulson set in an AU where he left behind a niece when he died. Each one will be posted each day throughout December and is based on a one word prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nicknames

Nicknames  
Originally she was supposed to be called Clara after her great-aunt. Then her uncle went away with the Rangers and her mother decided to name her Philippa instead, a nod to her favourite brother. Of course as honourable a name Philippa is it is a bit fanciful for her. She suited Jane or Anne, she wasn’t a Philippa. Philippa should be tall and confident and a warrior, she was none of those things. She was a slightly too short, overly shy and passably clever girl with grandma glasses and a Captain America rucksack. She refused to answer to Philippa, she stuck with Pip. When she was in year 2 some of the other girls in her class decided she should be called Pipsqueak because she had mousey brown hair and the most anyone got out of her was a squeak.  
The only time she spoke more was to her mother’s family. Each holiday she would fly with her mother out to the huge suburban house in Seattle, she liked it there because it rained. (One year they went to Los Angeles and she hated the heat) She never got on exceptionally well with her family, they were loud and confident, like Philippa should be. She loved talking to her great grandmother though; she was a determined old lady with plenty of wit and a fierce gaze that could make even her uncle fold. She admired her uncle Phil, he wasn’t always there because he was with the Rangers and he had to fight but whenever he was there he would give her a present. He had given her the rucksack, and the pencil case, and the sweat shirt. He didn’t mind that she was quiet; he told her quiet people sometimes had something really important to say but they were waiting for the right time.

When she was 12 she changed, she changed a lot. She had a growth spurt, she wasn’t supermodel height but she wasn’t far off. She discovered the miracle of hair dye and went for a chocolate brown and then she cut most of it off leaving a sharp side fringe and ponytail. She went swimming every day, ran on the weekends with her mother and then spent an hour each night doing a yoga/Pilates routine her uncle had told her about. She became the epitome of tomboy. She had changed her thoughts on Philippa as well, Philippa should be graceful and lady like. When she was 12 she also found out that her great grandmother had been died. She became Phil in honour of her; she was the sort of person that others believed to be useless and frail. Phil was strong and powerful and equal to any boy so don’t you dare touch that Captain America pencil case Tommy Brown or I will kill you.  
The confusion began when her mother died, a car crash that took Sophie but only scratched Phil, and she had to go and live with her uncle Phil. They didn’t have a problem at first because in the apartment he was Flip and she was Pips, if they were talking to someone else it was ‘the Uncle’ or ‘the Niece’.  
Of course difficulties arose when her school was closed due to snow and her babysitter was on holiday leaving the two Coulsons to head to the HQ together.  
She stayed in his office all day but it got to lunch time and one of her uncle’s assets dropped by, literally.  
“Hey, it’s a mini Coulson, what’s it called?” She didn’t actually mind that the mystery man talked about her like a zoo animal as long he wasn’t insulting.  
“Barton, this is my niece.” He turned to her, “this is Clint Barton and he has the social maturity of a 4 year old at best.” She nodded and waved but returned to her book, it might have been about Captain America.  
“Are you going for lunch? Phil?” Both of them jerked up their heads and Clint laughed. “I could forgive the Captain America book but she’s called Phil?”  
She scowled, her uncle did to.  
“Technically I’m Philippa but I prefer Phi and so does he.” She watched the wide eyes, her accent tended to do that there.  
“Coulson, Coul-niece? Or maybe Phil 1 and Phil 2?”  
He dashed out a minute later with the newfound knowledge that there were two Phil Coulsons and that was fine.


	2. Rescue

Rescue 

The air smelt. It had that scent of exhaustion and frustration, a day that was nearly over. Unfortunately there was only one way this particular day could end and it wasn’t such a good outcome for Phil. It would get her home but she probably wouldn’t be in one piece and her brother didn’t need that right now. Of course the likelihood was that her uncle would find her before she died, or at least as she was dying so that they could have a meaningful goodbye. Phil started thinking of the best movie quotes she could, he would like that, perhaps 2001. She could remember them watching it together for the first time and him mouthing along to every line. Clint would like that as well, and they could explain it to Tasha. 

Phil chuckled at the thought and then winced as the face of her tormentor stepped back into view. His face was covered in scars; small scars from burns and shrapnel, nothing like the monstrosity that Phil had from the accident. She flinched when she saw the knife in his hand, she had become mostly desensitised to the arsenal of weapons that her uncle kept in their apartment but the ever so slightly rusting blade had notches scratched out of it. She could almost feel the metal grating against her flesh, she shivered and the man staring at her smirked. He spun around the chair he had tied her too until she was staring directly out into the sunset. 

The glare was overwhelming and she tilted her head to see her captor squinting, Phil knew what she had to do. She didn’t even think there was the slightest chance but she had to try, just in case. She looked to the corner of the horizon and then along until she saw what she was looking for. She found the nest, she only knew one person who had a nest like that. It was just obvious enough so that she would be able to see it, it was meant for her. 

“My men messed up,” Honesty was an admirable quality but it wasn’t going to cancel out the kidnapping, or the threatening, or the whole how many times can we cut her before the tears start to roll. “They took you but you don’t know anything. You’re a bit useless and we’re moving out, I’m afraid there isn’t a spare seat for you Princessa.”   
Phil saw a series of flashes on the horizon beside the snipers nest, c-l-o-s-e space –y-o-u-r space –e-y-e-s. Phil didn’t think it would be the best to argue so she squeezed her eyelids closed tightly and whispered ‘Phil, please hurry.”

She felt the arrow breeze over her head and then the splatter of warm blood stinging against her back. She only just heard the body fall to the floor; she was too focused on the metal sticking out of her shoulder, a lucky blow really. For her self-preservation she rocked the chair to the floor and tried patiently for her chaos outside the door to reach her. She whimpered as her eyes started to close without her minds permission, the door swung open and the footsteps were the familiar ones Phil had learnt to trust. She heard him kneel next to her and cradle he head, her brother yelled for one of the team to stop the bleeding.   
“Pips, say something. Come on kiddo.” Phil spat out a mouthful of blood, she must have caught her tongue when she fell.  
“I’m afraid. I’m afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is gone.”  
Her uncle laughed but Phil could feel the impending tears.   
“You’re going to have to stay with me a little while longer, can’t have your last words being a mis-quote.”  
Phil smiled and relaxed into her uncle’s arms as she heard the blades of the chopper wafting overhead, he would take her somewhere safe and make sure the men who took her would never hurt her again. That was what uncles were for.


	3. Violin

Violin  
The music was technically perfect, it was all or nothing with him and his music was one of the things he truly cared about. He could have played perfect replications of classical pieces but that wasn’t the point. The actual music was a group of planned notes, lined up one after the other and from the mind of someone else. He preferred the spontaneity, new tweaks every time he played. He had the choice to change any piece as he wished. Each different piece he played caused different reactions and affected what happened next. He could control the outcome by switching from a major chord to a minor; there was nothing more thrilling than that.  
He actually put feeling into the music; he didn’t think about it too much though because his heart did it for him. He didn’t need it to be perfect either, it was something about him and mistakes. There were times though when he wanted to be perfect, when he felt terrible if he didn’t exude excellence. He could never do anything wrong for Sophie.   
He supposedly had to be able to talk to at least one of his family (that was what his mother said in any case). His father was out of the question because he was out of the picture and had never thought his youngest son could be satisfied in life until he had a job like James. Said brother was also not possible because he was too busy with his job at a bank where he made photocopies but still made mountains of money.  
In fact the only person the he could have ever talked to would be Sophie; he had no problem with her being younger, or a girl. He was just happy that she was willing to talk to him as much as he wanted her company. She couldn’t refuse either because she understood how pushy their dad was or how stuck up James could be.

Sophie became his partner in crime, someone to complain to and someone who would stick up for him if he needed it. She never asked for anything in return. He figured it out over a long few months (his mother may have pointed it out) that Sophie lived for her music. She was the first one to play the Violin.

Sophie died just after he joined SHIELD, it just happened one evening when she was driving home with Pips. He didn’t exactly know how to react to losing her, she was a soldier she was just an innocent young woman. She had left her Violin to him, a parting gift. She had always understood how his mind worked better than he did. He learnt to play it for himself, trying to recall her coaxing the sweet notes from the stubborn instrument. He could already read music and it was for her birthday that he composed his first piece. It wasn’t amazing but it was enough and he knew she would have loved it anyway 

Sometimes he felt overwhelmed by his emotions, pesky little things, and he would just play. He wouldn’t even know what he was playing so long as it sounded mildly attractive. He played until he felt he could stop without falling over. The third anniversary of Sophie’s death he played for seven hours straight. His eyes watered and his legs began to shake but he couldn’t put the Violin down until the clouds had gone from his mind. When he finally managed to return the instrument to its case, still with her name written neatly on the side, his hands hurt. His left hand was raw from the strings and had indentations, this right hand was still slightly clenched around an imaginary bow and the pain when he tried to flatten his fingers out made him hiss. It was could though, the pain made him keep thinking about her even when he was doing other things. 

It wasn’t exactly healthy, or sane or normal. She was an extraordinary girl who deserved and extraordinary memory. His hands could pay the price for that. He never played when Pips was with him, he waited until she was asleep or at school. He knew that she should get to share the gift that her own mother had left but Pips had the cello, she played that better. This was a secret he needed to keep for a little longer.


	4. Accidents

Accidents  
She refused to talk to her mother on the way home. It was stupidly unfair that her mother had banned her from going out with her friends until she had tidied her bedroom so Pips decided that she would give her silent treatment. It wasn’t such a big deal anyway because her mother was in her composing mode and would barely even hear her. Pips looked at her mother discreetly, she wasn’t exactly elegant or drop dead gorgeous but she was bonny and pretty and natural. Whenever she smiled there were lines shooting from the corner of her eyes, not that she was old. Suddenly her mother began to laugh at a billboard beside the road, Pips struggled to keep a straight face because the sound was infectious. Still she pulled a face like she was eating a sour lemon.   
Her mother pulled up outside the house and Pips immediately undid her seat belt, about to leap out and lock herself in her room.  
“Just shut up would you? I hate you and your stupid hyena laugh.” Her mother scowled at her and turned to her to yell. She never did. 

Pips felt herself flying through glass and debris and tossing through the air. She could hear her mother screaming beside her and the screeching of brakes on a HGV. The sound got quieter until finally she hit something and stopped moving. She tried to open her eyes but they were heavy and she was confused. She couldn’t hear the screams anymore; she could hear nothing except for the sound of her own loud and rapid breathing. She didn’t fight it, she just drifted away. 

Pips awoke in a bed; she didn’t know where she was or why she was there. Suddenly she remembered it all, the screaming and the truck appearing out of nowhere and her mother yelling that she loved her and what the last thing she had said to her brother was. She stopped being able to breathe properly and her hands were shaking, she had to be dreaming. She opened her mouth to scream but there was only a pained whimper. She was in a hospital room, a man opened the door and said something but he wasn’t addressing her. She flicked her eyes round and saw her uncle Phil sat beside her bed. 

“What happened?” It wasn’t the most important question but it was one of the only things she could think of without tearing up again. He didn’t seem to be able to answer her. She tried screaming again but still her throat was too dry to make the sound. She gave up after that, letting Phil hold her hand as the doctors and nurses moved around her checking on injuries she couldn’t remember getting.   
“Pips, there was an accident, a truck hit your car.” Her uncle’s voice was shaking and it struck Pips what must have happened. “You were thrown from the car, you’ve broken your arm and you’ve got a few cuts and bruises but you’ll be fine. I’m so sorry Pips but your mother...” He had to take a moment to control his breathing; he scolded himself and imagined that it wasn’t his niece that his sister hadn’t just died. “Your mother didn’t make it.”

This time she managed to scream properly, it was a hoarse sound and it hurt but it was satisfying letting her shock out audibly. Her uncle didn’t tell her off, he just sat by her and kept talking to her until she tired herself out and fell asleep. He never left her side; she was all he had left and vice versa. It didn’t matter about work, Marcus had let him take on of the jets and get away as soon as they heard the news. Anything could happen and still Phil wouldn’t let his niece out of his sight. Between them they had lost too many people and he looked at her, so fragile and pale, and whispered to her softly.   
“I’m not going anywhere kiddo.”


	5. Stories

Stories

The Coulsons lived in Seattle, which was where their family home was. Each generation had spent summers in the old house and played in the backyard and climbed the same trees. Phil had grown up in a nearby house with his parents and James and Sophie. He had climbed the biggest tree in the yard and read his Captain America comics whilst is older brother taunted him for being a nerd. Despite James’ efforts he still had fond memories of that house. Sophie had left all of that behind as soon as she could and had avoided that until Philippa was born. Sophie found England to be better for composing music and there no one was expecting anything of her.   
Pips had her own memories of the house but they had been clouded by her last visit, it was just after her mother’s funeral and the whole visit was spent with people she hardly knew telling her how wonderful her mother had been. She didn’t care about these people, they hadn’t been bothered during her mother’s life and they were just trying to make themselves feel better now. 

In the summer Phil and Pips sat down together and poured over brochures and websites for summer camps to keep her busy whilst he was at work. They found a summer adventure camp a couple of hours away from the apartment that ran all sorts of activities. Phil had managed to wrangle a fortnight off of work as well so they planned to go back to England and visit all of Pip’s favourite places.   
The holiday started off quite well, the camp had been a new experience for Pips but she was good and making short term friendships and she was a quick judge of character. She also developed a passion for various martial arts which made Phil very happy that she could learn to defend herself.  
England was a big hit with Phil as well, he had been there a few times with work or to visit Sophie and Pips but he had never had proper holiday time there. They hired a car and drove right across the country starting from Penzance (Sophie’s favourite holiday spot) and travelled bit by bit right the way up to the Isle of Skye (where Sophie had composed her best piece of music ever.)

It was one of the later nights; they had just passed the Lake District and were staying in a Premier inn, according to Pips it was an essential part of a British holiday. The clock read 3:26 when Phil awoke to find Pips screaming silently into her pillow, thrashing about in the middle of a nightmare. He woke her up gently but didn’t bother asking about her dream, he had worked with soldiers long enough to recognise when things were better left unsaid. He did ask if she wanted a drink and she accepted but made it herself because apparently Phil’s skills with a teabag left much to be desired. Once Pips had made herself a cup of tea she sat down on the edge or her bed/sofa and prepared to wait until the sun rose. Phil was supposed to keep her safe and that included her mind.  
“Since we’re replaying the Sophie Coulson highlight reel I’m going to tell you about the house in Seattle, ah ah, I know that you’ve been there but I bet she never told you these stories.” He sat on his bed opposite her and took a mouthful of his own tea (he hated it but when in Rome...)   
“She must have been about 8 when this happened, I was 11 and your uncle James was 15. We were spending our summer at the house, as usual, and there was a really bad storm. James was being a pig because your grandfather made him help to clean up all the branches that fell during the night. Well James was never very good with his hands and he hates, still hates, to get his hands dirty when someone else could do the job. That’s when your mother got involved.”

Phil finished the story but he knew Pips had stopped listening a while back when she fell asleep. Phil silently pulled the mug from her hands and set it aside before lying her back down on the bed and wishing her safer dreams.   
She didn’t have better dreams, she knew that they wouldn’t just stop, when she woke up she felt a bit better. Story telling became their thing


	6. News

As a wise man said, “When the doorbell rings at three in the morning, it’s never good news.” Phil could attest to this fact from the last time it had happened. This time Phil knew what the bad news would be, the letter had arrived with the morning post. Her uncle had died, the official letter of grievance placed on the mantel piece below the soon to be occupied picture frame. She hadn’t cried we she read the letter either, she cried the first time but this time was different. Before she had had someone to hold her close and take care of her until the tears stopped, now there was only her.  
The thing with this doorbell scenario was that it wasn’t at three in the morning; it was still the same thing though. It was four in the afternoon when they came round, Phil had just let herself into her uncle’s apartment hoping perhaps he would be back. There was chaos all around New York and Phil was probably busy. Phil remembered that when her uncle told about her mother’s death she had reacted badly but she was confident she could keep it in until they left.  
There were two of them, one was a tall black man with an leather eye patch and coat, the other a woman wearing the blue suit that indicated she was a member of SHIELD, Commander Hill. She invited them in because she knew she couldn’t put it off. She offered coffee that her uncle had finally taught her to make the morning before he left; she had never been interested before because she drank her mother’s tea but she wanted to get a bit more caffeine in. She hadn’t asked about cream or sugar, they were SHIELD and cliché or not they probably drank it black. 

The pirate spoke first.  
“I’m sorry to inform you of this, Miss Coulson, but your uncle Philip Coulson met an enemy target at approximately 3:19 on Wednesday April 4th 2012. Despite all efforts to save him he died. You have my deepest sympathies.” Pip wasn’t really listening, she knew the gist of his speech and that her uncle was dead. She looked Hill dead in the eye and asked her one of a growing list of questions.  
“Did we win; I mean did his death change anything?” She wasn’t about to stop feeling sad just because he died for a cause but it might make it a bit easier. Luckily for her the SHIELD woman had an answer.  
“Your uncle died stopping a dangerous enemy insurgent from escaping, he saved thousands of lives, ours included.” That helped more than she expected. The pirate, Fury had had called himself, went on about pride and honour, doing himself and his family justice. Pip zoned out until he placed a small box on the coffee table.  
“They’re all the things that your uncle had on him or in his office before he died.” Hill explained as Pip picked a mug from the box that read ‘Brit’s do it better.’ Pip felt the tears pricking the back of her eyes but she had to keep it together, if only until they had gone. She had only one last question but it was the game changer.  
“What happens to me now?” Her two guests exchanged glances and returned, Fury answered.   
“Your uncle wanted you to be cared for by Specialist Clint Barton until you were 18 years old, he amended his will to include Agent Romanov a while back and he signed a new will the day before he died instructing that you move into Stark Tower with the Avengers. Any basic costs will be covered by the SHIELD KIA fund, once you become 21 you will inherit the money left for you from your mother and our uncle, until then Barton has control.” Pip thought about Clint, he was cool but he wasn’t Phil.  
There were a few more details to go over but soon after they left. Just as the two of them went Pip asked an extra question that had just crossed her mind.  
“What happened to his Captain America cards?” Oddly it made Hill give Fury an ‘I told you so’ look and the man himself looked vaguely sheepish.   
“You’ll have to ask Captain Rogers about those miss, I’m sorry for your loss.”


	7. Strength

Pips had been to funerals before. She had gone to her grandmother’s when she was 12 and had spent the event holding her mother’s hand and looking around at all of the strange people wandering around. She had found the whole thing rather confusing and it only added to the sorrow she felt having lost her favourite family member.   
The next funeral she had gone to was her mother’s and she couldn’t remember much of it. It had been a few days after the accident and Pip’s l was aching and she was starting to feel the bruises across her ribs. It didn’t rain which was surprising because she had always wanted it to be stormy when her mother died. She was stood at the front of the assembled group, mostly her mother’s fellow musicians and her uncle Phil and she was told that the service was excellent but she hadn’t heard a single word of it. She was still hazy from the painkillers and sedatives that she had been given to stop her from shaking, or screaming partly from pain but partly from sadness. When it was over she stood by her mother’s head stone and placed her lily. Her mother had loved lilies the most, they were innocent, safe. 

Phil’s funeral was the worst of all; this time there was no one to take care of things. She was the one in charge and she couldn’t just cry, there were too many things to do. She had been getting tangled up in red tape from SHIELD trying to figure out when anyone could take any time off. She had tried to call Barton but he hadn’t answered any of her calls so Pips went to the next person on her uncle’s call list and Agent Romanov promised that he would be there one way or another.   
On the day of the funeral Pips found Pepper Potts herself outside her door with a garment bag and bunch of flowers. Pips hadn’t even considered clothing and she was thankful that Potts had. She got changed quickly and took one bloom from the bunch with her as she followed the CEO into her limousine and to the cemetery. Phil would have his plot at Arlington like he deserved but there would be no body, SHIELD regulations being what they were. 

She saw Fury stand and deliver a eulogy that was befitting a soldier, an agent and a protector. Pips listened eagerly this time, hearing about a man she thought she had known. It seemed that she only knew the fringes of his life; she hadn’t known that Fury had served with in the Rangers with her uncle or that they had worked together for so long. After Fury stepped down Jasper Sitwell said a few words, Pips recognised him from her few jaunts round various SHIELD bases and he had always seemed like a quite good friend to her uncle. The twenty one gun salute was difficult to take; Pips had still not become accustomed to random guns going off despite having been taught to soot one only a week after moving to uncle’s apartment. 

The flag was given to Pips, it was folded as it should be into the neat triangle and if Phil had been there he would have smiled at the precision. He wasn’t there though; he wouldn’t be there ever again. That started to hit her as people left and she waited for him to place a hand on her shoulder and lead her home. She stood there for an extra ten minutes until she realised that the name on the tombstone meant that he was there.  
Across from the mourning young woman Pepper Potts was stood talking to Captain Rogers, her newest tower mates. They had begun by joining in mourning for their fallen friend but the topic of discussion had turned to his niece.   
“What’ll happen to her now? Does she have anybody else?” Rogers was curious about the girl who had not yet shed a single tear.   
“Barton’s her official guardian but she’ll be staying with us at the tower. I don’t think she wants a lot of people around now.” Steve nodded at Miss Potts assessment, spot on as always. 

“She’s strong isn’t she; I’d be bawling my eyes out in her position.” Miss Potts laughed  
“You should tell her, not the bawling part, she’d be mortified, and but that you think she’s strong. Phil told me that he introduced her to your comics when she was little because she was like Agent Carter.” Captain Rogers gave a small, pained smile as memories came flooding back.  
“If she’s half as strong as Peggy she’ll be a force to reckon with.” Potts had just opened her mouth before she was pulled away by Stark but Steve knew she agreed with him. Phil Coulsons niece was strong, stronger than anyone could imagine.


	8. Babysitting

Pips sat alone on the couch in the safest room in New York, the communal floor lounge of Avengers Tower. She didn’t feel safe though, or at least she felt about as safe as a lamb in front of a herd of wolves. She scolded herself, these were wolves meant to protect her, if only she could stop them from seeing her as their next meal, or maybe snack because she’d lost a lot of muscle since Phil had died. No matter, Phil had been certain she would be safe with these people and Phil was never wrong, not when it came to her at least.  
Clint and Tasha were in the kitchen, making lunch for the team as a thank you for helping move all of Pip’s stuff into her new room, which in the tower meant her new floor. The other four men were staring at her and she was beginning to get anxious. She tried to channel her Coulson genes and kept calm, pushing down all the voices telling her to run before she got into a whole lot of trouble. She even went to far as to give a serene smirk, the one that said ‘I know something you don’t’ and she saw Tasha return it with a proper smile so she had probably made the right move.  
Stark broke first.

“How come you know Katniss and Anastasia, even Pep but not me, it hurt me on the inside.” Pips stifled a laugh because his manner, a four year old faking an adult, was identical to that of Clint when he was in a good mood, how he used to be before everything went wrong. Still he had asked a valid question and it deserved an answer.   
“I only met people who worked with Phil if we needed someone to keep an eye on me.”  
“Like a babysitter?” Her face was reply enough for that remark to be forgotten.  
“No, like a responsible adult, guess you never passed the test.” From the kitchen both Tasha and Clint were trying to contain their laughter.   
“What test, I was not made aware of any test. I demand a retake.” Stark’s voice was fussy and getting even higher and faster. The people around her laughed at Stark’s frantic panic and Pips only just managed to keep a straight face. Thankfully Tasha stepped in.  
“Stark, in order to pass the test to need to be able to be a babysitter and not need one,” His spluttered trying to refuting the comment but no one was listening to him.  
“I do not...” Stark rethought his statement, Rhodey, Pepper. “Fine, maybe I do need a babysitter but I could so manage to keep the kid alive for a few hours.” Even Rogers had to give him that, Stark would keep her alive but she would probably end up either in his workshop passing him various spare parts or hidden away somewhere silently. 

Before the conversation got any worse Barton announced the food to be ready and there was a wild rush to get to the grub which didn’t smell too bad. She wasn’t being mean; she’d had to taste the pasta incident of 09 and had barely escaped the other side. This dish, however, was delightful and everyone ate, and then the Asgardian prince and the super soldier ate some more and some more.  
Once everyone had eaten enough they all stood up, ready to scram to their various rooms but Pips stopped them.   
“Since Clint and Tasha were so kind as to cook for us perhaps we can all help with the clearing up.” There were sheepish looks on the Avengers faces except for the assassins who were ginning like the Cheshire cat. They stayed and watched as the 16 year old ordered the men twice her age to clear the table and load the dish washer. Clint whispered something to Tasha that caused one f her genuine smiles, the ones she saved for him and Phil and occasionally Hill.   
“Maybe she’s babysitting all of us.”


	9. Apologies

Phil had always been good at accepting apologies. He wanted to find the best in people and so if someone was truly sorry Phil could get over it. It didn’t matter how serious the action, whether it was accidently damaging one of his prized collectables or shooting him in the calf, Phil would sacrifice himself for the growth in another person.   
There were obvious limitations; scratching Lola, Loki stabbing him, oh and of course going anywhere near his family. He hadn’t been able to feel sorry enough when he heard that the driver of the tuck that hit Sophie had died. It was a sign that he had been in his line of work for too long but he just wasn’t sad, not even a saint could forgive the man for driving a heavy good vehicle whilst drunk. 

That was one of the biggest differences between Phil and Phil, the younger hadn’t inherited the same ability to forgive and forget and she harboured grudges instead. She could get the basics, she didn’t care very much about material possessions unless they had a deep personal link, her mother’s cello for instance, and now her violin. When it came to any of the big things she just couldn’t get over things. She knew it wasn’t an admirable quality but she couldn’t help it.   
People who knew the youngest Coulson understood that she could accept an apology on the surface but keep her emotions bottled up until she needed to collect on a favour. That was why Clint was so hesitant to talk to her. If she knew what he had done during the invasion then she would surely blame him for Phil’s death.   
In light of this realisation Clint hid from Phil whenever he could. If he heard her walking through the hall he would jump into an air vent and stay up there until she had arrived at her destination. He would get JARVIS to place an alert on her movements to make sure that he could leave the room before she got there. It was petty but he was sleep deprived due to nightmares about Loki and he wasn’t allowed on the range until psych cleared him. If this had happened before Phil would have told him to stop being stupid, done what he could do get him somewhere safe to sleep and then try to get him range time. Phil wasn’t there anymore.   
Luckily Tasha still was and so she pulled his head out of his ass and set him straight, it wasn’t as calm as Phil would have done it but it worked well enough.

He found Phil in the lounge; she was alone and just reading so Clint took a deep breath and leapt in the deep end.   
“Phil, I just want to say I’m sorry, for everything.” HE was wringing his hands but she just looked confused.  
“Why, for avoiding me since I moved in?” She didn’t sound as angry as Clint had expected but he didn’t know her enough to be sure. He tried again.  
“I’m sorry for killing Phil, it was my fault and I let him down.” Still Pips didn’t react except to look even more confused and to put her book down.   
“Clint, but, I thought Loki stabbed Phil?” Clint nodded but with a sigh.  
“Loki stabbed Phil but I helped Loki get onto the helicarrier and I gave away all the security codes.” Pips still looked a little uncertain but the comprehension was improving.

“So you’re apologising for being taken advantage of by an alien warrior with technology beyond our understanding and are trying to accept blame for actions under the influence of mind control?” Cling took a moment to think over her words, she had summed it up pretty well. He nodded, unsure if he would be able to speak without sounding like a six year old girl. She smiled slightly and picked her book back up, it was a very Coulson signal to leave now.   
He started to walk away but he couldn’t leave without knowing what she was going to do. He opened his mouth but she stopped him leaving him looking like a goldfish.  
“Clint, come back and apologise for something that was your fault and I’ll hear you out.” Clint didn’t realise he had been holding his breath until he heard himself inhale. Perhaps Pips didn’t need to accept his apology, he had her trust already.


	10. Princess

The atmosphere in the tower was tense, nobody was happy about the upcoming gala. It was supposed to be in honour of the invasions and all the victims so none of them had cause to stay home. Pips didn’t want to go and be flaunted in front of senators and businessman and the various others that made up New York’s high society. At least she would be surrounded by others who shared her opinion, and her dislike for schmoozing.   
Pips walked into the communal kitchen expecting to see 6 miserable team mates moping around and being generally whiney. She saw something else entirely. The avengers were sat around the kitchen table and on that table was a box, a big white box with something written in a curly gold font on the face. It was a familiar type of box and as she recognised it as the dress shop Potts had ordered her a dress for the gala from. She sat down in the empty seat, between her two favourite assassins, and waited for someone to explain. She wasn’t disappointed. 

“It’s a gift, fit for a princess” Stark said, making as much sense as usual as he slid the box towards Pips. She wanted to open it but there were 6 silent Avengers waiting for her to do so and she decided that was a bad sign. She turned to Bruce; she had found him the most trustworthy so far because Steve (and saying that made her inner fangirl scream) had a mischievous streak a mile wide. Bruce nodded towards the box and Pips couldn’t see any other option so she lifted the lid.   
It was hideous, Pips thought she knew what that was like, she had heard out of tuned oboe’s and had seen her uncle try to sculpt. This just took the biscuit, it was visually horrifying and it made her eyes hurt just to look at it. She managed to remove it from the box but she moved as it burnt her. She looked Stark straight in the eye and glared for a whole minute before speaking.   
“Why, oh why Stark did you pay actual money for that, monstrosity of fabric which I can only presume is meant to be a dress?” Stark couldn’t answer for the laughter. Pips didn’t exactly find it very funny. She held the dress up in as if she was trying it on. It was floor length and a shade shy of magenta pink with baby pink ruffles and polka dot bows along the waist, neck and shoulder. It was actually one of the most disgusting things she had ever seen. At this point the rest of the able burst out in fits of giggles and Pips could imagine laughing herself if it wasn’t for the fact that she was the one being laughed at. 

Pips put the dress back down and gave Stark one last look that should be taken to say something, unpleasant. Then she walked back out of the kitchen without saying a word. It would take her sometime to get over the disgraceful dress but at least it would be an excuse to get out of the gala since he now had nothing to wear, unless the dress code covered ripped jeans and a ranger’s hoodie. She found her way back to her room and picked out a good book to keep her company for the rest of the evening.   
About an hour into her reading time there was a chime from JARVIS, the towers equivalent of a doorbell. She waited a minute to see if they would leave but it rang again. She went and opened the door; it was her favourite Asgardian demigod. She invited him inside and watched him perch cautiously on her sofa.   
“Lady Philippa of Coul, may I ask what the garment the Man of Iron bought for you did to offend you so. Indeed it is a bit, extreme but it is verily pretty for a woman of your position.” Pips liked Thor, she really did and most of the time she made sense, right now though he was just confusing her.   
“Thor, the dress was plain nasty, and it was pink which is just insulting. Besides that what exactly do you mean by a ‘woman of my position’, I’m just an orphaned kid.” Pips wondered it Thor would make more or less sense with his next answer but she wasn’t hopeful. He looked down like a shamed puppy.   
“Lady Philippa, you are from a most honourable family and you are to inherit a vast amount of power one day. That makes you sort of a princess. However I do not comprehend how the colour of the garment makes a difference.” Pips wanted to laugh; she didn’t though because she had been fighting that damn colour since she turned 6. She took a moment to put her thoughts in order and then began her lecture on sexism and colour through the ages.   
By the time she finished Thor was a bit confused but he understood her reasons for disliking the dress, he also accepted that the colour of midnight blue would, how did Lady Pepper say, ‘make her eyes pop’.   
He went on his way but he couldn’t quite let the idea go, the dress had been paid for and he was very unhappy that the Midgardians could be so petty about garments. He also wanted to get another look at the man of Irons shocked face. He hurried away to plan, his brother may have turned to worse things but as a boy he had taught Thor his fair share of tricks. 

Unfortunately Pips had not been able to avoid the gala because Potts, damn that woman’s efficiency, had brought up the dress that had actually been ordered, a forties style midnight blue piece with a knee length skirt so she could defend herself if necessary. She had spent the evening hiding in a corner with Clint picking out dignitaries and officials and giving them fake names. As the first speech, given by Stark, was announced Pips began to wonder where Thor was, she hadn’t seen him since that afternoon. She turned to listen to Stark but he was just stood on stage spluttering in surprise, she followed his gaze round and began laughing so much that she started crying. Thor, heir to the throne of Asgard was stood in the middle of the room with his bright red cape on and official helmet, except the rest of his armour was a little different. He had somehow managed to squeeze into the dress from earlier and was parading around with the pink fabric only reaching his knees. He caught her eye and winked at her. Maybe she wasn’t the princess after all.


	11. School

Pips had never been overly focused on her school work; of course she would always do her homework and listen to her teachers. Her mother didn’t mind so long as she did well in music and was having fun. She knew what she wanted to do when she grew up; she knew she would do it as well. Pips planned to be a music teacher. She wanted to work with young people who wanted to express themselves with sound. She knew it sounded pathetic and cheesy but she really liked watching people who weren’t amazing at maths or science, pick up a piece of metal and wood and create something.

Pips hadn’t exactly struggled at school though, she was naturally intelligent and quick to adapt. She got good grades if she put the effort in and was a considerate student; she even worked to improve the school system. Once Pips moved to New York with her uncle all of that changed. It wasn’t that Pips was behind or failing, it was just that none of it made much sense. Phil discussed everything and they decided together that the best thing to do would be to send her to the British International School of New York. By keeping at a British school it made it easier to continue studying her old curriculum, rather than having to switch to the most confusing system of education that Pips had ever seen. 

Once Phil died, Pips had to change school again. Barton was concerned that the school was too far away, too conspicuous. Far be it from her to be obvious, she was only the legal ward of an avenger and living in the avenger’s tower. Anyway she listened to her guardian and they downloaded the necessary forms and transcripts. As it turned out that was far more difficult than it first seemed. They took a weekend off to get everything sorted but by Monday morning they hadn’t even finished the first sheet.   
They eventually declared the mass of paper too complicated, even by Phil’s standards, and had to go and find Pepper to help them out.   
Pips ended up at Midtown, apparently it was the best school in the area and she would fit in well, it also had an excellent music program and it was close enough that someone would always be able to pick her up within 15 minutes. She had been given a timetable and a map but it didn’t really help her. On her first day she realised how out of her depth she was. 

Clint walked Pips to school and checked she was cool before awkwardly watching her enter the building looking like she was being led to the chopping block. She followed the directions perfectly but she ended up lost, she asked for help but nobody listened to her, by the time she made it to her classroom the lesson was nearly over. It didn’t get much better with the rest of the day because each teacher would ask her f she knew such and such a topic but with an American name and Pips would seem stupid until she realised what it should actually be called and understand perfectly. She was confused, as if everything hadn’t been stressful enough already, and she couldn’t even begin to worry about making friends until she could figure out what was going on. 

By the second day the librarian at Midtown had an answer to Pips problem, he had found her reminiscing over the Shakespeare display in the library and the eccentric old man couldn’t stand to see the quaint English girl look so downbeat. He thought of a student who had had a similar haze about them lately and sent a note to the receptionist to remove Peter Parker from his next lesson. 

At first Pips thought that Peter was helping her find her way around because he was told to, or maybe that he felt sorry for her after losing his own uncle. In reality Peter was talking to her because she was interesting and funny and didn’t think he was too weak to handle being insulted just because he had lost someone. They slowly became friends though. By the end of her second week they had already worked on photography project together and joined up for a physics workshop (although it was called something else and not taught as a science.) Pips was happier at school but she still complained regularly about how confusing school was. The shame was it still wasn’t the weirdest thing about her second new life.


	12. Skills

Skills  
Pips had grown up in a world where your importance was directly proportional to your ability to play a musical instrument. To her mother she would of course be precious and the light of her life but still it was difficult to get her attention without mentioning words like ‘bassoonist’ or ‘symphonic’. In light of her situation Pips learnt to adapt, leant to read her surroundings. She learnt to play the violin.  
After she learnt to play the violin she learnt to improve, constantly. She learnt that the second you accepted your abilities, that was the second everything went to hell in a hand basket.   
When Pip’s mother died she kept playing the violin but she had to –alter- her skills. She had never been very good at making friends but she had to learn and fast. Her uncle was brilliant but he had to work an extremely challenging job and he couldn’t always be there to pick her up from school or take her to orchestra. To mend the gaps Pips had to make friends with other people in her activities, their parents could then give her lifts. She found it quite easy to make friends as the time went on, not real ‘I trust you with my darkest secrets’ friend but ‘I tolerate your presence’ or ‘you raise my social standing’ friends. 

She kept playing the violin, and the flute, but she found a second passion, photography. Phil was quite handy with a camera after years of surveillance shots and he was more than willing to spend his limited off time going with Pips to find the most picturesque spots in the country. Phil managed to take a slightly out of date copy of the SHIELD editing software and gave it to her for her fifteenth birthday. When he died he still had a picture of the two of them, outside the Captain America exhibit at MOMA, on his desk which he showed off to anybody who came by.   
After Phil was a strange time, she knew that there were people who could look after her and keep her alive but she wasn’t sure if she could be happy around them.   
Pips kept them all at arm’s length until she was sure about them. In the meantime she met Peter Parker and they bonded over a mutual love of dark rooms and lens caps. She kept up with photography for the same reason that she kept up music, partly because she liked it but party because it was the link she had with the people she couldn’t know anymore. She didn’t go looking for her next interest, it found her. In fact it swept her off of her feet. 

Pips had only been in the tower for a month when one day she was looking for Tasha, who had a stash of female hygiene products, hidden in her room. She walked into the main gym and found herself dropping to the floor as a fencing foil skimmed the top of her head. Tasha quickly apologised and retrieved the sabre before asking Pips what she needed. Pips went back to the gym when it was empty and picked up the training epees, she asked JARVIS to run the basic fencing program and she started practicing.  
One day when Tony was wandering around looking for someone to pester he found Pips fighting a holographic projection. He stopped the program and picked up the more advanced foil that Pips had yet to touch. They set up a standard time to work on her skills each day, provided she never asks him about why he could wield a sabre like the best of them. 

Pips tried out different hobbies all the time but the ones that stuck were for the people, the friends and the new things to talk about. She accepted that she was good at certain things, she couldn’t stand fishing for compliments, but she was always on the lookout for ways to improve. Luckily for her she now was living with the best of the best and she could see herself going up in the world. Luckily for them she knew that jumping in the deep end –in relations to various levels of weapons training and gymnastic abilities- was a sure way of drowning.


	13. Relationships

Phil Coulson had always been quite good with people, at first. He had to turn assets and calm superior officers and work with some very tricky people (Barton, Barton and Romanov) everyone saw what he wanted them to see, a professional Agent that could kill them 18 different ways with a single paperclip and didn’t care at all. To be fair he was all that and more but underneath the suit and the sunglasses he was a somewhat shy, geeky and awkward man. Those things weren’t his fault; it was part of being a Coulson.   
That meant that Sophie was the same, and with her Pips. If Pips really got to know someone, really, really well then she would relax into the background and let the others take charge. Of course with strangers or ‘friends’ she put on an act that her uncle Phil had helped her to perfect. She could be smart and sophisticated and cold when she had to be. Those lessons stuck after Phil died, she stepped into the role and moved into the tower. Then she forgot how to stop. 

She tried to be kind to the Avengers; after all they had saved her from being a lonely orphan on the streets. Now she was a lonely orphan in a lovely tower. Still it was difficult to get along with a group of people who only just managed to not kill each other.   
The first person in the tower that Pips became friends with, real proper friend was surprisingly enough Thor. He was big and strong and if Pips had had any sense of self preservation left she would have run for her life but hey, her mother and uncle had proved that life was too short for safety. The Asgardian prince, new to earth, wasn’t as serious as the rest of them were. He didn’t tiptoe around her as though she was about to explode or expect her to sit in a corner and cry. Since Pips had been in New York she had spent lots of time in the tourist attractions getting to know the city.   
It was decided that Thor probably shouldn’t be allowed out on his own without a cultural attaché and nobody would let Pips go anywhere without an armed escort. That made them a perfect team. They spent each Sunday at a different location, MOMA or the Empire States or anywhere in the country if Stark lent them a jet. Thor may have been hundreds of years old but he was still a very young man and even younger at heart. He was comparable to a labradoodle puppy (she would never ever tell him that) and was so playful and cute and loyal and ever so slightly too excited about the little things.   
After Thor Pips branched out and became more willing to make friends, or rekindle an old friendship. Tasha had always been Tasha to Pips. Even when she was only just trusted to not kill Fury and hang Soviet flags all over the Helicarrier she had been an idol to Pips. They weren’t like sisters that would be stupid. However the Russian did have a fondness for the younger girl, the one who could still smile at a woman who had killed so many people she couldn’t even keep count anymore.   
Pips was her new mission, Phil may have put Clint in charge but she was the protector, the undercover fairy godmother to make sure that she was safe not just from super villains or evil masterminds but from bullies and boyfriends and cramps. Not because she was a girl, but because she was better at putting her feelings for her dead handle aside and focusing on the new Phil Coulson. Pips helped her as well, she was not as innocent as a normal child but she was still naive enough to believe people could change. Maybe Pips was right. It wouldn’t have been the first time.


	14. Pets

When Phil Coulson was a young boy his family had had a dog. Of course they did, it was a golden retriever called Liberty because that was what his stereotypical American family was like. Phil loved Liberty and he always used to play that he was Captain America and she was an enemy soldier trying to steal his shield. When Liberty died Phil was away at university and he was in the middle of his first tour and he was surrounded by death, Liberty's was just a bit closer to home.  
Once Phil settled down as an agent of SHIELD he never really had time for pets. It was probably because 'settling down' for SHIELD constitutes as choosing an apartment close to the HQ that you pretend to live in when you aren't away on a mission or sleeping in the on base barracks because you've to be in a meeting in half an hour. 

Pips had never had a pet at all. Well, there was that goldfish that her mother used to watch for inspiration but it hadn't lasted extremely long. It didn't seem fair to have a pet when they spent most weekends touring the country with various orchestras. That hadn't always been the case. Pips could only just recall very hazy memories of a dog, a big Alsatian that no parent in their right mind would let play with a tiny toddler. She couldn't remember what it was called or whose it was and her mother never told her when she asked. Eventually she put together enough pieces of an incredibly fragmented puzzle, most of her information gathered from her mother’s best friend and conductor at the time.   
The dog had belonged to her father, or at least they were always seen together and they both left at the same time. Pips didn't ever want a dog after that, when she saw similar dogs she always felt faint and her hands started to sweat. Anything that reminded her of her father was better off avoided; she just didn't want to know.

With Pips living in the tower as a charity case she didn't want to push her luck by asking for a pet, she didn't really want one so she was okay with the arrangement. Until of course the SHIELD therapist, she wasn't allowed to stay with Clint unless she had regular sessions, decided that it would be a good idea for there to be an animal in the home. Pips didn't try to convince the therapist that the 'home' was not a home at all and just a collection of very broken peoples all surviving under the same roof.   
Pips thought the process would not advance any further but the therapist went to Potts instead of   
Stark and so a tower meeting was called to address the issue

"I reckon we should just put Katniss here in a cage and have a pet hawk," Stark joked drinking a cup of painfully strong coffee since Barton had asked him not to drink in front of 'baby agent' as the billionaire referred to her. In reply to the remark Barton folded a paper aeroplane and flew it straight into the engineer’s cup. Stark retaliated with a paper plane that resembled an F-22 and although his aim wasn't perfect his plane was and it hit Barton between the eyes. The resulting paper plane battle lasted about five minutes until one of them accidentally hit Tasha and she glared at both of them. They both sat down silently. 

"I for one think it would not be a bad idea to have a cat, they take care of themselves mostly and they are delightfully violent." Tasha didn't add to her creepy statement but simply leaned back into her armchair and continued to read the novel she had been reading before the meeting.   
"Indeed the felines you speak of have the spirit of a berserker warrior and are truly honourable creatures." Thor seemed to want to start one of his Sagas, or perhaps an ode to the feline so Bruce slipped in.   
"Cats are helpful for lowering stress and they don't need walking" everyone in the group agreed with Bruce and since everyone seemed to be in agreement Cap stood up and said in his 'I am in charge so just get on with it please, thank you' voice.  
"That's that then, we're getting a cat, from a rescue shelter and Pips can choose which one because it's for her. Dismissed." He walked away, along with the rest of the Avengers, leaving Stark in shock with his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

The next day after school Cap and Tasha took Pips down to the nearest animal shelter and they looked around at some of the kittens, Potts had already had someone approve the tower and they just had to buy a few toys. There were so many cats of all shapes, colours and sizes that Pips didn't know where to start but after an hour of searching she found her. There was a black kitten with white paws and a white triangle on his head that looked like a witches hat, Pips know right then that this kitten would be coming home with them. The name on the kennel said Merlin and it suited the kitten so they decided to keep it. When they asked about the kitten they learnt that there was another kitten with it, a kitten that refused to be parted. The unnamed kitten was golden and shiny and rather regal if a bit lazy and it had such cute and begging eyes. Tasha and Cap had a quick chat and they decided that two kittens would be okay because there was a lot of space in the tower and they were such cute kitty cats. 

When they got back to the tower Stark was in his workshop and so missed the news about the second kitten. He stumbled up in the early hours of the morning and saw a tiny golden kitten asleep on his chair; he let it slide because it was kind of cute. Tony decided just to go to bed and turned to put down his empty cup, when he turned back he saw a kitten but this time it was black.  
"I'm hallucinating," he muttered under his breath as he walked to the elevator, "I've started seeing things."


	15. Independance

Pips was a responsible young woman. She had to be in order to take care of herself. It started when her mother had to go out to various concerts in the evenings and Pips would have to sit quietly backstage and find something to do with her time. Once she was ten she would stay at home and the elderly woman next door would check on her every so often and be there in case of emergencies. It became a regular part of life for Pips and she was quite self sufficient.   
Living with Phil wasn’t much different except it was a bit more erratic. She would never know when Phil might have to go away or for how long. Still she was used to taking charge at a moment’s notice and looking after herself at the drop of a hat. Pips was never nervous when Phil went away either because she knew he could take care of himself and he had promised to stay with her. Up until the end he kept his promise, she had no reason to doubt him. 

After Phil (Pips considered using AP as her newest age, because her life was clearly defined) Pips hadn’t had much cause to look after herself. She wasn’t necessarily relying on the rest of them but she hadn’t had to go back to the routine of always having a phone nearby and making sure she wasn’t awake all night if she had school in the morning.   
She knew that there was going to be a time when the Avengers were called out to deal with a new threat and she would be left holding the baby, of course in that analogy she was the baby. Pips wanted to pretend that it would never happen, that they would stay in the tower all the time and she would be safe. She knew it was never going to be like that but she kept her dream up for a good month. 

She had been at school all day before it happened. In fact she had been at school with Peter and they had spent their lunch taking photographs from the roof. They were just heading to the dark room in the art block when her phone began to play that tune. To anybody else it was just ‘I predict a riot’ but it meant that the Avengers had been called out. Pips got the basics from a text sent by JARVIS explaining that they wouldn’t be back until the early hours of the morning but that there was nobody to watch her. There were robots that would take care of the kittens but Pips was in a sticky situation. Luckily Peter swooped to her rescue.

Since SHIELD had him on record as being Spiderman, Peter was allowed to know about her and her position. When she told him what had happened he took his role as best friend and offered her a place to stay.   
“Seriously, Aunt May won’t mind at all if you need to crash.” Peter kept offering her his home and as the day went on Pips had no choice but to accept. She had a go bag in her locker with a change of clothes and the essentials so when the bell rang Pips followed Peter Parker home. It sounded like she was a stray dog but to be truthful she was very much a stray (you could drop the dog though).

Aunt May was a wonderful woman and Pips was certain that in another life she was probably the Queen. She was polite and sweet but could still handle her 16 year old nephew never mind any other man who dared to insult her brilliance.   
She welcomed Pips into her home with open arms and couldn’t have been kinder to the girl in the stressful situation. She wasn’t nosy or too pushy, she just smiled and made small talk and offered home-made lasagne that was amazing. Once it got late Aunt May didn’t even force Peter to go to made once it got past midnight, she just let them watch stupid movies and she didn’t mention when Pips started to tear slightly. Being independent was all well and good but it was nice to have someone to rely on.


	16. Father's day

Pips couldn’t really remember her father. He had left before she was two years old and there had never been any happy memories shared in their household. Pips could remember the dog and a man who was tall and muscular but not quite as strong as he looked. There was a definite reason why her mother never spoke of her father and most of the time Pips accepted that he just wasn’t part of her life.   
When Pips was seven she went to her father’s funeral, she went with her mother and they stood away from the main group and Sophie smiled the whole way through. Whenever Pips got too curious she thought back to that day and stopped wondering. She actually didn’t mind the fact that she never had father-daughter bonding time or someone to teach her how to play football or any other one of the things that a father would do with his daughter. Pips knew that her mother had worked hard to do as much as he could have ever done and that she had always been truly cared for. Sophie had been a wonderful mum even though she sometimes was preoccupied with her music, for hr Pips had dedicated both mother’s day and father’s day because she was as good as the both of them. 

When Sophie died Pips felt like finding out more about her father but it felt like she would be spitting on her mother’s grave. Sophie had always been there and she deserved more than some man who had walked out so many years ago. Pips still thought about Sophie all the time and every mother’s day she would sit and watch recordings of her mother playing for hours. Father’s day changed though, she actually had someone now. She had someone to teach her how to fight and shoot and how to follow a sports team. Father’s day became Phil’s. Each year he got a few new trading cards and they would do something stupid in the evening just because they could.

In the time after Phil’s death Pips didn’t know what to do on father’s day. She was going to do the same thing she used to do but it didn’t feel right without her uncle. She had presumed that the day would have passed without acknowledgement in the tower but she was so very wrong. With the exception of Tasha –who didn’t know her father enough to miss her- all of the Avengers sat around all day and mourned, with varying degrees of sincerity, their fathers. Pips found all of the male Avengers sat in a circle around a Bunsen burner taking it in turns to splash whatever alcoholic beverage they were drinking into the flame and watching it grow. It wasn’t exactly the ideal safe activity but none of them cared anymore. Pips ended up joining them, stealing splashes of Stark’s drink because he had more than enough to share. 

Pips should have felt scared around Thor and Cap; she hated men that were showy and muscled but not actually strong. It reminded her of her father and she really didn’t want that. Those two were seriously strong though and they had proved it by lifting cars and walls and also by picking up the sofa for Pips to slide under and grab the earring she dropped. Pips didn’t know all of their stories about their fathers; most of them hadn’t known them or hadn’t wanted to know them. Still they made for pretty good company. 

On the first mother’s day after Phil’s death Pips knew what she wanted to do. She had done it with Phil the last year and she wanted to keep doing it because it seemed like a fitting tribute for her mother, a woman who cared for her more than she cared for following the strictest laws. Pips took Barton and Tasha up to the roof with a projector which they played against the wall. They had a bottle of champagne with them, only the one but it was expensive and Pips had paid for it herself although Clint had had to buy it for her because the USA was stupid and 21 was much too high for a drinking age. Despite everything Pips was English and 16 and an orphan and if that meant anything it meant she could handle her liquor. Pips didn’t end up drunk surprisingly, that hadn’t been the plan but she supposed that if she had been bungalowed then it would be a bit easier to handle.   
Tasha enjoyed the music, it was really, really good music. Clint was there for moral support and to claim the champagne if by some miracle a member of law enforcement appeared on the roof. She couldn’t have proper mothers or fathers days anymore because she didn’t have a mother or a father or an uncle but she had friends, she had people who cared. Her mothers and uncle would have liked that.


	17. Danger

Pips had never been a completely normal girl. She had never lived in a two up two down terraced house with a mother and a father and a cat. She had always been in danger without even knowing it. Before, when she still had Sophie, her life was guarded. At first it was from her father, he had never been happy that Sophie had custody over the child. He didn’t actually care for her but it helped in his line of work to have a child, whether it be for a human shield or just an alibi.   
Later when Sophie was a relatively famous composer/ musician and playing across the world it meant that Pips had to go with her. She was frequently in busy city centres late at night. Of course her mother would never let her come to any harm but there was always the risk, nagging at the back of Sophie’s mind. 

It was nothing compared to life with Phil. There could have been up to a dozen death threats each week, most of them from them from the higher ranks of SHIELD. Pips didn’t always understand that people saw her as a threat or as a target but she knew that when Phil used that tone of voice it meant she had to do exactly what he said and as soon as humanly possible.

When Pops turned 16 Phil began to explain some of the things about his particular line of work. She knew that he worked for the government but the exact details had always been kept hidden. A normal teenager should have run for their life upon hearing that their friends were assassins, not just assassins but good assassins, the best in the world.   
Even then that didn’t register as danger to Pips, soviet spy or not Pips had had a sleepover with Tasha and the same woman who once had pink paws painted into her toenails would never touch a hair on her head. 

That didn’t mean that Pips didn’t get scared. She hated cars. Planes, trains and motorbikes were fine but being trapped in a car made Pips edgy. Sophie’s life had ended within the metal constraints of a car and there was nothing Pips could do to ever forget that. Lola was the single exception, the cherry red convertible so unlike her mother’s Volvo and if the top was down and Phil was driving Pips could just about handle it. Other journeys were kept to the shortest distance possible however and she preferred walking whenever she could get away with it. 

She also knew that the most dangerous thing she faced at the moment was recognition and consideration from her peers. She had to handle the balance between the truth and the lies carefully in order to keep the people at school from realising that she went home each night with an Avenger and that she lived in Stark Tower. She had to be cautious about making friends with civilians and getting too attached to people who didn’t really care about her. There was a constant danger of discovery and it hung over Pips like a storm cloud. Every time she thought about healing, about remembering how to be a happy and normal girl, she felt the weight of the world drop onto her shoulders.   
It was a danger that no one could protect her from either, anything that the Avengers did other than stay away from her would only make matters worse. It didn’t help that it affected the most obvious and every day things. Parents Evenings, or as Pips had to now call them ‘Parent Teacher Conferences’, were one of the trickiest things to organise ever. Clint was in charge of her educational choices but he was also an Avenger and that meant that he couldn’t stop in the middle of a battle to go and talk to Pip’s English teacher about her spelling. (It was a very touchy subject, Pips believed it was part of her cultural heritage to spell things ‘correctly’ but her teacher would prefer words without quite as many U’s) 

On the night in question Pips went around with a Stark tablet and a video link to Pepper who was recording the whole thing and asking a list of preapproved questions. She could feel all of the other students and their parents watching her as she went around. Pips felt like crying but she held her head high, being stared at wasn’t a new thing and if Pips could handle a 5 inch scar down the side of her face then she could handle a Skype conference.   
Pips was in danger all of the time, sometimes it was more obvious than others, and she was scared. No one would touch her though; at least that was what Phil had promised her. Then again Phil promised a lot of things...


	18. Shield

Pips lived something of a sheltered life. She was no stranger to death or pain or dishonesty but there had always been people to watch out for her and to protect her from the darkest parts of the world. It didn’t matter if it was Sophie or Phil or her grandmother or even Clint, there had always been a friend to shield her when she needed it. It meant that Pips was never completely alone, it just felt like she was.   
Sometimes, if Sophie had to stay late at a rehearsal, then Pips would have to spend quite a lot of time without her. She would have a babysitter but she would be with her mother, just random people who were little more than total strangers. It was the idea though, that her mother would always have someone to take care of her if she couldn’t do it herself. Pips was too young to see anything besides being babied but the older she got the more she found comfort in it. 

When Pips lived with Phil she was uncertain how many people she had left to keep her safe. Too many of her protectors had ended up dead and she didn’t know how to get more. Phil provided them though. Clint and Tasha somehow ended up becoming her secondary uncle and aunt as Phil moved from uncle to parental guardian. Tasha and Clint were there and they helped Phil to protect her more from the dangers. It was odd that they were the ones to keep her away from the other weird people in the world being so strange themselves but they were committed to keeping Pips as innocent as they could.   
No matter how hard any of them tried they couldn’t shield Pips from the death of Phil. They couldn’t stop the nightmares or the ice that wormed into her heart. They could try, however, to shield her from the plagues that came after. 

The politicians were endless, miles of red tape and complications designed to squeeze as much as possible out of a foreign, orphaned young girl. They all wanted to use her for their campaign speeches and for good will pieces. She was worth her weight in gold if she would just smile for the camera and star in puff pieces. Pips wasn’t cut out for that sort of thing, she didn’t want the people who made the stupid decisions to benefit from her uncle dying. The thing was that she didn’t have any power to protest, it would be disgustingly easy for them to have her removed from Barton’s custody and sent back to England. 

Pepper Potts was her godsend there; she was the only one she still knew who was capable enough to deal with the slimy politicians and business men without pulling out a knife. Pips was at their mercy until Potts stepped in and shielded her from the fallout that followed.   
It didn’t end there either. There were a lot of people who thought it wasn’t acceptable for her to be around the Avengers, that she was a distraction and a threat and a target and a thousand other things. Yet nobody ever stopped to ask the super heroes themselves.   
They wouldn’t be able to live with themselves knowing the Pips was somewhere else, alone and in danger because of them. They felt better about some of the questionable things they had done when they could stop something bad from affecting Pips.   
She deserved all the protection she could get and any way in which the Avengers could help would maybe repay the debt. The debt from letting Phil Coulson die, the debt that they tried to pay back through his niece. They couldn’t stop the reality of the world, but they could try to shield her from the worst of it.


	19. Suitors

Pips lived something of a sheltered life. She was no stranger to death or pain or dishonesty but there had always been people to watch out for her and to protect her from the darkest parts of the world. It didn’t matter if it was Sophie or Phil or her grandmother or even Clint, there had always been a friend to shield her when she needed it. It meant that Pips was never completely alone, it just felt like she was.   
Sometimes, if Sophie had to stay late at a rehearsal, then Pips would have to spend quite a lot of time without her. She would have a babysitter but she would be with her mother, just random people who were little more than total strangers. It was the idea though, that her mother would always have someone to take care of her if she couldn’t do it herself. Pips was too young to see anything besides being babied but the older she got the more she found comfort in it. 

When Pips lived with Phil she was uncertain how many people she had left to keep her safe. Too many of her protectors had ended up dead and she didn’t know how to get more. Phil provided them though. Clint and Tasha somehow ended up becoming her secondary uncle and aunt as Phil moved from uncle to parental guardian. Tasha and Clint were there and they helped Phil to protect her more from the dangers. It was odd that they were the ones to keep her away from the other weird people in the world being so strange themselves but they were committed to keeping Pips as innocent as they could.   
No matter how hard any of them tried they couldn’t shield Pips from the death of Phil. They couldn’t stop the nightmares or the ice that wormed into her heart. They could try, however, to shield her from the plagues that came after. 

The politicians were endless, miles of red tape and complications designed to squeeze as much as possible out of a foreign, orphaned young girl. They all wanted to use her for their campaign speeches and for good will pieces. She was worth her weight in gold if she would just smile for the camera and star in puff pieces. Pips wasn’t cut out for that sort of thing, she didn’t want the people who made the stupid decisions to benefit from her uncle dying. The thing was that she didn’t have any power to protest, it would be disgustingly easy for them to have her removed from Barton’s custody and sent back to England. 

Pepper Potts was her godsend there; she was the only one she still knew who was capable enough to deal with the slimy politicians and business men without pulling out a knife. Pips was at their mercy until Potts stepped in and shielded her from the fallout that followed. 

It didn’t end there either. There were a lot of people who thought it wasn’t acceptable for her to be around the Avengers, that she was a distraction and a threat and a target and a thousand other things. Yet nobody ever stopped to ask the super heroes themselves. They wouldn’t be able to live with themselves knowing the Pips was somewhere else, alone and in danger because of them. They felt better about some of the questionable things they had done when they could stop something bad from affecting Pips. She deserved all the protection she could get and any way in which the Avengers could help would maybe repay the debt. The debt from letting Phil Coulson die, the debt that they tried to pay back through his niece. They couldn’t stop the reality of the world, but they could try to shield her from the worst of it.


	20. Lilies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will includes spoilers for Thor 2, BIG BIG SPOILERS so if you have somehow not managed to watch it yet just skip this one, the rest will still make sense.

Her mother had always loved lilies; there was always a bunch in the house. Pips had grown up with the white blooms and the scent would forever remind her of Sophie. At first Pips had just thought that they were pretty flowers, to be admired from a distance. Later they became more significant.  
They had been watching an episode of Rosemary and Thyme, Pips must have been about 9 or 10, and it had been about the secret language of flowers  
“Do you know what the lily is for?” Sophie asked in the middle of an ad break.  
“Mrs Gower said that they’re funeral flowers,” Pips replied, pulling a face at the mention of her least favourite teacher.  
“Almost, I mean they are seen at funerals. They are symbols of innocence and purity; people put them on the graves of people who didn’t deserve to die.” Pips took a moment to think it over.  
“What did you put on father’s grave?” Sophie grinned, the same face she always pulled when she remembered that the sleazebag was dead.  
“I put down a poinsettia because I felt that Christmas had come early.”

When Pips got out of hospital, she went back to her old home with Phil to protect her from all threats, physical and psychological. The scent of lilies was still strong, the perfume clinging to every surface. It was such a definite memory of her mother, so much so that it became suffocating, blocking out the air. Pips reached out for Phil with her good hand and used him as an anchor to hold on to when she was pulled away.  
Sophie headstone had a lily carved into it, a permanent bloom for the lady who would never die in Pips heart. Pips placed a single white flower delicately onto the fresh earth, her mother would have wanted her to do that. Once she got back to Phil’s hotel room she scrubbed her hands raw trying to get rid of the smell. She didn’t stop until Phil swore that the smell had finally gone.  
Her nightmares contained lilies for months. She watched herself hand her mother a single lily –the one from Sophie’s coffin- before killing her. The only thing that changed each night was the cause of death, hanging, drowning even stabbing.  
With time the nightmares stopped but the purity f the lily had been stained forever. 

Phil didn’t get a lily, Pips was still too angry at him for leaving, for breaking his promise and taking her last little bit of hope. It wasn’t just that she was annoyed though. Phil had done his duty, he had died for a reason and purpose. At his funeral Pips had bought a special bouquet, in the shape of Captain America’s shield. She removed a white rose from the star in the centre and gripped it so tightly that the thorns pierced her skin in order to keep her from shaking. Phil had been good, in life and in death, but he was a soldier, a spy.  
Barton watched the funeral from his tree; he had taken his cue from Coulson’s niece and bought something other than a lily. He understood, sometimes to preserve innocence one had to be ignorant and Phil had always had a desperate need to knowledge and improvement. 

Pips recognised the look on Thor’s face when he returned from Asgard before he explained the events in a valiant saga. She had spent years hiding the same look from her own face. It was a small smile, not so big as to attract attention but enough to keep strangers from seeing the raging pain inside. It was a pain that could never be fixed. It was the face of a young adult, too old to burst into tears but too young to be able to accept death.  
He spoke of Valhalla, of honour and valour and a warrior’s death. It may have been enough to convince the others but Pips knew better. She saw through the mask to the hurt child inside, desperate to find comfort in someone who would never be there again.  
She waited until Thor was alone, contemplating some thoughts whilst seeming dead to the world.  
“I am not asleep little ones, just thinking.” Pips took it as an invitation and sat on the floor next to her friend.  
“You miss them, both of them.” Thor nodded gravely.  
“I know how you feel, not to be depressing but it doesn't get much easier.”  
“My mother was a wonderful woman; she shone brighter than any of the stars at night. I would do anything to have them both back.” He caught sight of the look on her face and sighed.  
“I cannot, not even... nobody can.: Pips seized the opportunity.  
“The second person you lost, I can’t exactly feel sorry but I need to know. Did he truly make up for what he did when he died?” Thor considered it for a moment.  
“He, he saved my life. He knew that I could do more good than he could in my place.” Pips accepted his answer and they moved on to discuss the fleeting happy memories of their mothers.  
The next morning there were two lilies at Thor’s place. Pips couldn’t exactly feel sorry for both of the deaths but Thor deserved to be happy.


	21. Cold

Pips hated being ill, obviously nobody enjoyed being sick but for Pips it was a miserable experience. She had never been doted upon when she was sick, her mother had been too busy at work. When she was sick she would sleep constantly, if she was feverish and couldn’t sleep then her mother would read her poetry.  
She would read her The Owl and The Pussy-Cat over and over again until either her voice was as sore as her daughters or her daughter was finally asleep. It was a tradition; it had magical healing powers that a four year old Pips was certain could cure any ill. She continued to believe that until Sophie died and no matter how many times she read it back to herself it didn’t stop the aching in her heart.   
If Pips was ever feverish and alone then she would dream of her mother with that pussy-cat and that owl dancing.

“They danced by the light of the moon,  
The moon,  
The moon,  
They danced by the light of the moon.”

When Pips first sneezed in New York Phil gave a polite ‘bless you’ and went back to his work. After the tenth sneeze in as many minutes he asked her if he was feeling all right. She assured him that she was but he didn’t believe her. He challenged her to telling him that without sneezing, she was off school the next day.   
Phil had to go into work but he kept a Skype call open all day to keep an eye on her. He felt sorry for her but he knew that she would get better much quicker if she slept for the day instead of pushing on through the day.   
Barton was curious as to his handler’s disappearance and so he went to spy on him under the guise of bringing him a cup of coffee, via the air ducts of course.   
He paused above Coulson’s office and listened to him speaking a strange conversation to his computer. Barton backed off; he really didn’t want to know.

“Twas brillig, and the slithy toves  
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:  
All mimsy were the borogoves,  
And the mome raths outgrabe.”

When Pips moved into the Avengers Tower she had to face an odd question, what exactly do superheroes do all day? It seemed that the answer to that puzzle was nothing. Pips didn’t really find that out until she was practically dying of a cold and was sent home from school for fear of plague contamination. Pips had found the building surprisingly quiet when she got back; apparently it seemed that she live in a building full of scaredy cats. She was used to that though so she just changed into a pair of fleecy pyjamas with little motifs of bulldogs and red buses on and went back to bed. She would just go to sleep for a while then have a light supper and be perfect for the morning.   
She woke up 36 hours later. She crawled out of her bed despite JARVIS’ protests but barely made it to the lift before she was ambushed. She was helpless to Thor and Cap as they turned her around and marched her to the communal area.   
“You slept for more than a day Pips, you can’t go back to school and the only way you’re not going straight to hospital is if you stay here and be quiet.” Pips frowned but couldn’t respond because her throat was dry. Thor magically appeared with a glass of water without her having even asked but she was too exhausted to consider the facts. She went back to sleep and slept for a shorter time, only half an hour at a time.   
Barton became worried; Coulson would return from the dead and kill him if Pips was hurt. He tried to remember if Phil had ever done anything special when Pips was ill. The poem! The problem was that Barton wasn’t a poetry kind of guy; he was more of a music type. He brought his dilemma to the daily Avengers meeting and luckily Captain America could save the day.   
Steve sat in the sofa opposite Pips and began to recite the singular piece of poetry that he could remember. It was an old poem and whilst it wasn’t exactly English but it was Scottish which was close enough, right? Peggy had taught him it one night on the front lines, a taste of home.   
Pips fell asleep to the soothing words and when she woke up the next day she actually felt better. Maybe there was such as a thing as a magical poetry. 

“And fare-thee-weel, my only Luve!   
And fare-thee-weel, a while!   
And I will come again, my Luve,   
Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile”


	22. Celebrity

Pips knew what the paparazzi looked like; they had always been there in the background. Of course her mother wasn’t gossip magazine headlines but she was adored by a number of upper class followers. Each new concert she played or composed was reviewed by all of the elitist journals. It was perfectly normal for Pips to have to sit for an hour next to Sophie as reporters asked her question after question about her inspiration and what she would do next. Pips just ignored them, she was bored beyond belief and she could tell that her mum was lying. There was just the one time when Pips was in a picture with her mother, part of a article about single working mothers in the arts. There was the cutest picture of Pips wearing a tiny version of her mother’s dress and holding a bow that was the same size as her.   
She remembered the coverage of her mother’s death; it had been in all of the newspapers. ‘Britain’s borrowed composer dies in accident’ was the title the Guardian ran with, Pips still had a copy somewhere because her mother would laugh herself silly if she knew that the last tribute was a dig at her nationality. Still all the papers gave fitting grievances and most of them addressed their concerns towards Pips and what would happen to her. None of them ever thought that the daughter of the famed Sophie Coulson would be off to face New York.   
So maybe Pips wasn’t going to face New York. It didn’t matter though because she sort of disappeared. It would be too dangerous for people to connect Phil to Pips and Sophie so she stayed low, not doing any competitions out of the city and that sort of thing. She was just a normal girl again, a little bit different from the rest of the girls but still a regular kid. The thing was that she became too used to being normal. She forgot the few things that her mum had taught her about journalists, or rather about how to avoid them.   
After Phil she really started to regret not paying more attention to her mother. As much as she tried there was a point when people realised that she lived in the Avengers Tower, with the Avengers. She managed to hide it for almost two months, and then it was Tony who let the side down.   
Pips was stood outside the entrance to her school waiting for someone to pick her up, it was supposed to be Barton, as in one of the Avengers who still actually had a believable cover. Instead it was Stark, the least subtle man that Pips had ever met. She would have almost gotten away with everything as well because for once Stark was driving a car without his number plate on it. Some bright spark had to go and take a photo though didn’t they, and then post it online. Then of course Harry freaking Osborn had to go and recognise the car and it all blew up in Pips’ face. When Pips logged on to twitter that afternoon she was flooded by new followers and messages and her mostly ignored Facebook page had hundreds of new requests. She panicked and had to get JARVIS to delete them because she didn’t know what to do.   
From then on Pips became somewhat popular. She couldn’t even go with Barton to the music shop without at least a dozen people stopping them and trying to get photographs. It didn’t matter to anybody why she was living with a bunch of superheroes or who she was as long as she was a new person to follow around.

The only way that Pips could escape the celebrities hype was by hanging around with Bruce. The paparazzi were still scared stiff of the incredible Hulk and so they left him alone. Pips took to taking Bruce with her everywhere. She would have felt mean, using him as a human shield but he enjoyed shopping for real tea and old books and e was quite funny if he stopped thinking that he was about to squash the city. Being a celebrity was over rated anyway.


	23. Television

Sophie Coulson had always encouraged her daughter to be inquisitive, creative and most of all happy. The majority of the time Pips learnt through reading, she read fast and frequently and most of the house was made from books. Sometimes though it was impossible to explain things without actually seeing things, which was where the television came into play. Sophie never put on any cartoons or CGI rubbish, not that fiction was something to be discouraged. The most popular shows were educational; ‘El Nombre’ or the favoured ‘Come Outside’. For Sophie, who watched everything with Pips in case further explanation was required, the best show by far was ‘Tots TV” because it combined three of her favourite things; French, a donkey and a musical instrument. The other things that Pips watched were charming little programmes like ‘Bertha’ or ‘Ivor the engine’ which were funny and fictional but wouldn’t spoil any good books for her when she was older.   
Pips also watched some things without knowing what she was watching; she had been watching it since she was born with Sophie, but the younger was mostly bothered about being close to the older. They watched Star Trek together, Sophie’s all time favourite show, ever, and sometimes ITV 4 dramas on lazy Sunday afternoons like ‘Rosemary and Thyme’ or ‘Lewis’. 

With Phil television was about escaping, running away from real life for a while. It was also a little bit about making fun of obvious mistakes and inconsistencies, it wasn’t that they wanted to put someone else down but they both found it fun to unravel the puzzle. Pips watched what Phil watched, mainly shows about spies or cops. CSI, NCIS, Chuck, anything that frequently mentioned an acronym. It was strange but it became a typical relaxing end to a tough day to come in and watch the good guys solve a violent crime. It was soothing, knowing that the good guys would always come out on top. It was their thing, trying to come up with as many alternate motives and causes of death. It may not have been exactly normal but it was something that they did together for the grey days before Phil would have to go away on a mission.

Despite having been in the country for a number of years, it wasn’t until she moved into the Tower that she really missed her home. She missed the rain and the accents and the currency that made sense, she would have actually gone insane if it wasn’t for the fact that the builder of the Tower was an engineer and scientist and so was happy with Celsius instead of Fahrenheit. Pips had never truly been able to appreciate England until she had left, then it was literally the most amazing place she had ever been. Since she couldn’t return to her country she had to find other ways of reminiscing. There was the nationwide search for real fish and chips; the entire weekend spent trying to make perfect Yorkshire puddings. With Phil she had only been able to get BBC America but there was the most wonderful JARVIS to connect her to her real television across the Atlantic. She was able to watch Merlin and Doctor Who and Lewis. She was also able to keep up with the news and in winter get her fill of ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ because she could not survive without Anton Du Beke on her screen every week for a quarter of the year. Sometimes, when she was really, really homesick she would watch whatever was on BBC 1 at the time. She would watch an omnibus of Eastenders just to listen to English accents for a while.   
The best thing that Pips had ever watched was after the Loki incident when the Avengers became the hottest priority. Somehow Stark and Cap found themselves on the Graham Norton Show and whilst they didn’t tell anyone Pips was watching it anyway. It was the funniest thing ever; the two superheroes seemed so intimidated by the silly little Irish man and Cap couldn’t answer a single question without blushing despite his experience on the stage. At one point a woman in the audience tried to get up stage and kiss Cap yelling ‘I NEVER LIKED ENGLAND ANYWAY’ at the top of her voice. Books were a million times better but sometimes television had its good points.


	24. Prom

Pips had always liked dressing up as a little girl, it wasn’t about looking pretty but about sparkles and confidence and colour. She would always go through the numerous dresses in her mother’s wardrobe, skipping through the black concert garments at the front to get to the party dresses at the back. Sophie had to attend galas and fundraisers for the various orchestras and each time she was would take her daughter shopping with her. The little girl never got tired of watching her mummy try on dress after dress and would always give a painstakingly accurate assessment. It didn’t take Sophie long to learn that Pips did not like her wearing turquoise (it made her bum and hips look big and her eyes look small, and buggy).   
Pips herself had little reason to ever dress up outside of going to watch her mother play but there was an award ceremony at her music school, Pips won the first prize of course, and she got to wear a beautiful navy blue dress that looking back on was a monstrosity but at the time Pips loved it.   
Pips left that dress in England, in the unoccupied flat that Phil rented for Pips to keep some of the things that she didn’t want to get rid of. 

In New York Pips went to her first ever dance; it was a Halloween party that a boy at school was holding in his parents embassy. Phil was reluctant to let his niece go to anything at the French ambassador’s house but she really wanted to go and Phil really wanted to see what would happen with her costume. He honestly didn’t not inspire or encourage her outfit in any way, shape or form. She just happened to want to dress up as Captain America.   
Phil would have let her go as anything, within reason, but her costume was just brilliant. He was wary of the boys in her school after her most recent encounters but what could keep a French guy away from a girl like a huge American flag. (It worked as well, maybe too well.)

Pips first real, proper, actual dance was a few months after moving to Midtown and she was kind of a little bit excited. It wasn’t as if she was going with a date or anything, just with Gwen and Peter and Harry... Maybe being there with Harry would be a bit awkward but he would probably get out of it as soon as he could.   
“NO. No, no, no. You cannot think about him whilst getting ready or you’ll be expecting things and that will ruin everything.” Potts may not have been one of the trained killers in the room but Pips had learnt the hard way that you always respect the woman wielding a curling tong.   
“How did you know, please don’t tell me I was talking out loud.” Pips groaned and tired to sink her head into her hands but Potts, tongs, heat.   
“Ah, Honey. You’re a teenage girl and going to a dance, even Tony would be able to read you.” Tasha wasn’t exactly known for pulling punches. Pips was about to offer up a rebuttal but Barton appeared and silenced the group.   
“Tasha, just no, please, Deputy Director Hill I implore you to forget this ever happened and Miss Potts, Pepper if anybody asks then you did this.” Pepper looked confused but Pips explained.  
“Clint here is going to do make me look pretty.” Barton placed his case on the desk with a thud.   
“Pips, you are beautiful, all of you are beautiful and this is one of the reasons I don’t do this anymore. All it ever does is make stunning women feel self conscious and awkward and dependent and then they cry and-” Pips interrupted him.  
“Barton, l don’t want face paint I want a subtle highlighting of my best features, I still want to look like me, okay?” Barton nodded.  
“Well let’s get started.”

The school hall was full of over acting fake couples in love and awkward teenage romance. Pips had chosen to stick to her friends rather than face the dread of the crowd and that happened to include Harry Osborn. To be fair he hadn’t tried to make it more awkward but that was probably because he was already drunk and had just spiked the punch. Pips was fine with that, it may have been a stereotype but she was English and she could hold her booze, and even took the opportunity to dance with one of the chess nerds who asked her to dance.   
After a very drunk Harry tried to chat up and accidentally drunk Gwen Peter and Pips decided that as good friends they should probably get them out of there before the head noticed that one of his star pupils was absolutely bungalowed.   
On the way home Harry, whilst propped up on Pips shoulder, asked her a question.   
“Why do you have a scar Pips, are you some kind of pirate warrior, or a super spy.” The group stopped.  
“Seriously though, because it kinda ruins the whole goddess vibe you’ve got going on.” Pips dropped her smile.  
“I was in a car crash, back in England with my mother. She was crushed but I was thrown through the door and got this.” It was almost scary how calm and collected Pips voice was but Peter didn’t mistake that for her being cool with the whole thing.  
Peter traded Gwen for Harry so Pips could get away from the drunken prat. Peter then called Harry’s chauffer to pick him up before he got into worse trouble. Gwen was dropped off at her apartment with her younger brothers and Pips had to offer up a kiss with each of them in exchange for not telling their mother Gwen was drunk when she eventually came back from work.   
Peter walked Pips home to the tower, it wasn’t that he thought she couldn’t protect herself but Harry had been mean and Pips deserved an apology.   
“Look Pips, I, I mean this just as a friend because I love Gwen and she’s awesome, anyway you looked really, really pretty tonight. I would say like a goddess but Harry sort of ruined that, he didn’t mean it you know. He’s just drunk, and for the record I’m sorry about your mom.” Pips shook her head and stopped Peter before he talked himself to death.  
“Peter, I get it, Harry is a drunken idiot. As for you, I don’t need anyone, especially not a guy to tall me whether or not I look like a goddess. I’ll see you on Monday right?” Peter turned to walk away but he waited to make one last comment.   
“You do look like a goddess though.” Pips smirked.  
“I know.”

Thank you for reading, I’ sorry this is a bit longer than usual and a day late. If you are celebrating then happy holidays, if you aren’t than I sympathise with you, just do what we do and eat pancakes and watch Doctor Who


	25. Sports

After Pips father left, Sophie tried to avoid things that reminded her of him. That meant that Sophie kept Pips away from people that smoked, from smoke salmon and from Arsenal supporters. In fact football was kept off the TV at all times because Pips didn’t care about it and Sophie decided that there were much better role models than footballers, or their WAGs.   
It wasn’t all sport though, there was Wimbledon every year that Sophie and Pips would go to and watch the rest whenever they could. There was also the pentathlon which Sophie made sure Pips was enthusiastic about. Pips grew up believing it was the pinnacle of humanity, being able to defend one’s self and survive better than the next guy. Pips loved it, even as a young child she would sit and watch the various rounds and bet with her mum about who would win.   
On top of all that there were the Olympics of course which were very important in the Coulson household. Should there be any event in which Great Britain was competing in, mass cheering and support must be displayed. Sophie wanted pips to feel British, like she belonged there because she did not belong in America. Sophie did not believe that by living in England Pips would grow up and marry Prince William, nor did she think that she would become a Lady or Duchess. She just wanted her to have a place that was properly home, even when she wasn’t there. 

Sophie needn’t have worried, when Pips moved with Phil to New York she became even more English. In her first week there she drank more cups of tea than she would have done in a month. She also began to follow with passion any England/GB competitions, in any sport at all. Football however, or in the states ‘soccer’ was left alone in a dark corner to sulk. She started to appreciate baseball thanks to her uncle Phil, and Captain America. She didn’t exactly understand it and thought inside that it was just professional rounders but if it was good enough for the Captain.  
There was the Beijing Olympics during the period when Pips lived with Phil, it should have been spectacular and the beginning almost was. Phil had managed to negotiate some time off as part of ‘cultural experience’ and it certainly would be an experience because it would have been the first time Phil and Pips had ever been on opposing sides.   
Things didn’t always work out; Phil had to go on a mission, a three week mission to a classified location. Pips was not happy and she made it painfully clear but Phil had to go. She rejected his offer to record the whole thing and try to not find out any results; she said it wasn’t that much of a big deal.  
Phil was going on a dangerous mission and Pips didn’t want him to be distracted.

He was going to take her that was what he had said during their penultimate phone call. They had fought about it because Pips thought it was a ridiculous waste of money and with Phil’s line of work they wouldn’t even make it to the airport. They argued over it but not the normal shouting and screaming of a usual family tiff, this was a Coulson fight. That meant they never raised their voices or insulted each other and also that there were a lot of spat out ‘fine’s that were far from the truth. It was a rather calm fight but it was the biggest that they had ever had. 

Pips forgot all about it when she found out he had died. It was just sport, she didn’t even realise it was that time of year until she had broken up for summer and Stark told her to pack her bags. She didn’t believe him, or trust him, but when Barton and Tasha repeated the same instructions she did. Or at least she picked up her go-bag from behind her bedroom door because old habits die hard. Nobody told her where they were going until Stark’s private jet landed at Heathrow and Pips just knew. Sure once you’ve seen one airport you’ve seen them all but there was a sense of depression coupled with the smell of tea and cigarette smoke that screamed home. She didn’t know who had planned it but they had tickets to at least one event each day including the Pentathlons, the entire equestrian and the Saturday athletics. According to Pepper, who had joined them to make sure that they didn’t accidentally cause a public relations scandal or kill someone, they were using reserved spaces for international VIPs and apparently the Avengers qualified. Pips had the time of her life leading her ragtag group (made up of scientist spies, a super soldier and a space god as well as a baby sitter) around London the proper way, and if Tasha was to force Stark to buy tickets to a ballet whilst they were there even better.   
It wasn’t perfect because Phil wasn’t there but the Mail’s headline of ‘Super Soldier Switching Sides’ with the picture of Cap wrapped up in Pips Union Jack was pretty cool, Phil would have loved it.


	26. Legacy

Sophie Coulson was not one of the top ten celebrities in the world but she certainly left her mark. She hadn’t cared whether two or twenty thousand people played or heard her music so long as she could support herself and her precious daughter. As it turned out her music was quite popular indeed and it was even in the UK charts a couple of times! Say what you will about British stupidity and lack of finesse, they knew a hit when they heard it.   
Sophie also set up a small scheme to introducing young and talented musicians without the right opportunities to express themselves with conductors and composers across the county. It made her very popular with the younger generation to find that she actually cared about someone other than herself.   
When Sophie died the youth orchestra that she had handpicked, composer, conductor and all, played at her funeral. Pips recognised the piece as the one her mother had been whistling in the car the day she died, she had only just finished it and it was still stuck in her head. It was clear to Pips when she went with Phil that her mother had made an impact when she heard the same piece played on the radio in the cab they took from the airport to Phil’s apartment. 

When Pips thought of Phil she had always seen the army Ranger, strong and honourable and collected. It wasn’t until she saw him returning home at 4 in the morning with a blood soaked suit and a scratch down his face that could rival her that she realised he was something more. Not that he needed to be anymore, Pips would be proud of him even if he was just the accountant he claimed to be but Pips learnt that what he did mattered so much more. Obviously the general consensus advised against telling a 12 year old girl government secrets but Pips was intelligent and curious and anyone who wanted to could see that there was something else to Philip Coulson. 

Pips knew that to everyone else he was a regular man and that it was that way to protect him, to protect her and even to protect the world. Still it made her angry that none of the people at school whose parents were all international trade attachés or ambassadors could see that he was more. He deserved recognition for the things he had done but that would make redundant his secret spy skills. 

At least there were other people who did the same thing that he did who could appreciate him. Knowing that Barton and Tasha looked up to him the same way as she did (for spies they could stupidly transparent sometimes) made it easier for Pips to keep secrets. It wasn’t that she was big mouthed; she just felt very, very proud of her uncle and thought that everyone else should be to. At his funeral they were all there, even Barton although it did take a moment for Pips to find him tucked away in his tree of choice. None of them could show their feelings, for Hill and Tasha and Barton ad even Jasper it was easier to hide everything away until the threat was dealt with and it was safe to let their guard down. At least they would know. They would know that Phil Coulson had saved the world so many times without anyone ever needing to know. He had stopped weapons trading and drug dealers and enemy assassins and he had never needed to be thanked. At least there were a few people who would be able to pass on the legacy of Agent Coulson, how he never lost his cool, or his suit, and how he died saving the world one last time. New agents would whisper tales of the legendary Coulson through the halls without even having ever known him and despite the awe of Captain America and Iron Man he would always be the favourite super hero that SHIELD had ever known.

Pips knew that people would remember the people she had lost even when she couldn’t; they knew stories about Sophie and Phil that would last forever. Except there were things that only she could ever know, like how Sophie was the best mother anyone could ever hope for and how she would make sure that Pips had everything she could ever need. Or how Phil took Pips in when she was low and made her happy again, whether by arresting human traffickers or by buying a Captain America comic book for them to read together. 

Eventually Sophie’s music would stop being played and the evil that Phil faced would have been forgotten. Even the feats of the Avengers would become the tall tales that grandparents tell each other in nursing homes. Pips would remember though, she would remember her mother who made her what she was, her uncle who kept her alive , and the friends who reminded her that it wasn’t over yet. The men and woman who made sure she knew that whatever happened, they were there.


	27. Lightning

London, as well as the rest of the United Kingdom, had never been known for its wonderful weather. In fact it was famed for the opposite and from what Pips had seen of it, the rumours were well founded. Pips had experience near torrential rain more times than she could remember and the storms were like an old friend. Most children at some point were afraid of thunder and lightning, Pips wasn’t that normal. She had grown up listening to the bass drums and the timpani, loud noises were part of her life.   
As for the lightning, Pips never slept during storms. Pips was in awe of the flashes of gold that graced the dark sky. She would force her mother to let her stay up and watch any storm that she could even if it meant that she was exhausted the next day at school. Sophie knew that she shouldn’t let her but Pips was so amazed by the world and it would teach her lessons far better than any teacher could. 

Phil had to admit that when he was out of his depth he tended to take advice from his sister’s example. Sophie had been okay with letting Pips watch storms all night and since it was currently thundering and she was shaking he decided to let her stay up. He had only been away over the weekend but that was enough sometimes to make her break down. She was currently staring up at the dark clouds and watching the raindrops roll down the window as her tears mirrored the action.   
Phil was sat on the sofa, drinking a cup of coffee to keep him awake but Pips wasn’t tired. She eventually stopped crying as the storm quietened and when her alarm clock went off she slunk away to get ready for school. They didn’t talk about it; Phil decided not to bring it up unless Pips did first. She never did. 

So many things changed when Pips moved into the Avengers Tower, she just got used to waking up each morning without any expectations from the one before. One thing that even she hadn’t expected to change was the weather. Of course she now lived with the ‘god of thunder’ and whether he was a Norse god or not Thor could actually control the storms.   
Pips still watched them though, it was one of the things that Pips would always have and if the Earth, or Thor, tried to take it away from her they would regret it.   
During the next storm Pips went up to the observation deck because she reckoned it would be empty due to the adverse conditions. She sat, head leaning on the cool glass for the better part of an hour as the thunder rolled and the lightning blinked. She felt the stress and tension get carried away by the swirling clouds and beating rain.  
“Most mortals dislike these storms little one, you find the soothing?” How an alien man of that size snuck up on her she didn’t know but he was there and Pips knew that the best way to get him to leave would be to answer his questions.   
“I used to watch storms with my mum; I always thought they were beautiful.” Pips supposed he deserved some of the credit.   
“You are not scared by the lightning little one?” Pips shrugged.  
“The power and the danger, they just make it more worth it.”  
A fork struck in the distance and the ghost of a smile made its way to Pips face.   
“Is this you? Are you causing this storm?” Pips turned to face Thor, a great sacrifice during a storm like this one.   
“You overestimate my power; I am the composer and not the musician. I can alter the storm but I cannot interfere with the natural necessities.” Pips laughed.  
“Don’t insult composers, but I get what you mean. You can start storms though?” Thor nodded.  
“So if there was a completely random and unpredicted storm it could be you?” He nodded again but didn’t seem to be following her train of thought.   
“Why do you ask little one?” Pips looked away, looking not at Thor or the storm.   
“It rained after Phil’s funeral, real lightning and thunder storm style. It wasn’t supposed to.” The penny, or the Asgardian equivalent, dropped and Thor shifted his gaze to his hands. 

“I am not always able to control my feelings sometimes; I forget the repercussions they have.” Pips looked back to him and shook her head. It wasn’t his fault.  
“Thor, when I get angry I just throw things or shoot things, compared to that a little rain is fine.” Thor tried to reply but Pips didn’t let him.  
“My mother used to say that a storm happened because nature was sad, and needed to cry, or because the planet needed cleaning. Either way during a storm the clouds had to make it dark to do its job, and that the lightning was an apology for the darkness.” Thor smiled  
“Well then little one, I won’t disagree with your mother, she was good.”  
“The best”


	28. Portrait

Sophie Coulson had always been beautiful. She was the classic girl-next-door type with bonny bright eyes and a gorgeous smile. It was more than skin deep but at a first glance you wanted to get closer, talk to her and spend time getting to know her. It was impossible to resist even from a young age and there were always people hanging around Sophie trying to make friends. She wasn’t fooled by the fake compliments and offers to hang out by the ‘popular’ girls. She wasn’t stupid and she could remember every time she got a weird look when she brought her music into a conversation. 

When Sophie was old enough she moved to England, she would have moved anywhere but she was requested by an orchestra and the one thing she wanted more than anything was to be wanted for her own work. It only once she arrived in London that she forgot all about the false smiles and offers of friendship. When she met Malachi she fell in love with the man who hung to her every word or pretended to. They were the perfect couple; both of them were alien visitors looking to expand their cultural horizons. Malachi had been an artist, a con artist, but still forgery requires skill and the gift he gave Sophie for her 21st birthday was a portrait of her dressed up for one of her premieres. Sophie never took it down even after Malachi died and Pips kept it in storage, it was startlingly accurate but it wasnt the real Sophie.

Where Sophie had been open and clear Phil was secretive and concealed. It was part of his job but it had originated long before that when he was growing up as an awkward geek with few friends outside of Captain America and his Howling Commandos. Unlike his sister Phil had not been sought out by the neighbourhood youngsters as a friend or a boyfriend and that suited him quite well. He wasn’t hiding, he just was cautious of the people around him. People didn’t get to know the real Phil until he was certain that they were important people, family of course to start with and then close friends, the sort of friends that had saved his life at least a dozen times. There was Marcus, Barton and Tasha who knew Phil truthfully. They were the ones who knew that he hated wearing his glasses to work only a hint more than he hated wearing contact lenses; they knew that he preferred to drink red wine on missions because it was easy to camouflage blood stains. 

They were also the ones that knew where his scars were, knew his flaws and his weaknesses and they could have so easily taken him down. Phil had to trust that nobody that he let in would stab him in the back. It would be easier though to keep everyone out but he knew the limitations of humanity, they were pack animals. All these things were all parts of the puzzle that was Phil Coulson; you had to put them together to see the bigger picture. 

Pips was almost an exact copy of her mother, that fact was one of the things she hated most in the world. Her eyes were brown not blue and her hair was curly and browner than her mother’s but little else was at all different. It was true that Malachi had had little impact on Pips at all and that included physically save for the hint of tan that came out when the sun did. 

She wasn’t like the rest of her family though and she had never been shy, she could have reasonably refused to talk to anybody at all. It wouldn’t have been strange if Pips had shied away from very camera and microphone. Pips didn’t care what she looked like so long as she didn’t look like her mother, it shouldn’t have been such an issue compared to the scars on her arm from surgery or the result of the accident on her face. That didn’t bother her though; she was fine with people staring at her.   
Pips was like an open book, anybody could come and see for themselves but the text was in a foreign language which even she couldn’t read. The good thing for her was that she knew a few experts.


	29. Return

Pips had been young when she learnt that some things are permanent. Some things can’t go back to normal. Some things are like melting ice or wax, the opposite action reverses the damage. Other things are stuck, things like a log in a flame, a spear through the heart.  
She was rarely bitter; life had thrown too much in her way for any of it to make more than a fleeting impression. She understood that people had to die, both the philosophical reasoning and the actuality of the death itself. Pips even knew that there were fates much worse than death and that death could be the best case scenario. She would tell herself all of that each time she went to a funeral but it never made any difference. She didn’t blame the universe, she didn’t care whose fault it was, they were gone and that was end.   
Until one day it wasn’t.

It was 7 months later when Pips got the call, and actual call to the rarely used landline in her room. She didn’t even know what was making the noise at first since JARVIS handled most of her communications. When she did answer it she hung up almost immediately or at least after the first 4 words.   
“Flips, it’ me, Phil”   
She hung up the phone and then yanked it out of the pug and flung it at the window as hard as she could. It shattered satisfactorily against the reinforced glass and the impact alert had Barton and Cap running to see if she was alright. She didn’t want to talk to either of them but she made them think she was fine before giving them the slip and finding Tasha, she had known the most about what had happened to Phil and wasn’t as nervous about discussing it as the others were. She found the Russian in the gym and dared to interrupt her work-out, this seemed more pressing.

“I’ll look into it but you need to keep in mind that this probably isn’t real,.” Pips nodded and allowed Tasha to go and find out what she could but she was spooked. It seemed too mean for random strangers but too small for any of the enemies that her uncle had had. No something like this could only hurt her, she thought back to the precautions that Phil had set up and packed her bag. She had promised to run the second she felt she was in serious danger and not to alert anyone until she was at the closest safe house to collect emergency money and a new passport. That night she couldn’t sleep but she didn’t want to worry anybody else so she forced herself to read through her Shakespeare collection until she eventually fell into a restless sleep. 

In the morning she was relatively chipper until she remembered what she was planning and the smile dropped off her face. Tasha was not at breakfast but that wasn’t overly unusual for the assassin, she frequently had late nights or earlier starts. What were strange were the looks that the rest of the Tower was giving her and the skittish behaviour. She kept her conversation simple and light, only speaking as a response to a direct question. She left for school but she forged a quick note that said she had an important appointment. She texted Peter to make sure he wasn’t worried and then headed to the cemetery where Phil was buried; she would have headed straight for the airport but she wanted to say her goodbyes. 

It was a little after lunch when she got a text, not from Peter or anyone else she knew though. It read ‘don’t be such a flute, just get up and turn around’ Pips slowly turned around and glanced to see the sender of the text who must have been in the cemetery with her and knew that that was a code phrase she had with her uncle. There was a black SUV parked by the road and Pips could see a single figure in the driver’s seat. There was another beep accompanying a second text, ‘let’s go for a drive’. She walked calmly to the car and opened the passenger seat door and got in. She looked straight at the driver and swore under her breath. She didn’t need to check, she’d been looking at this face every day for the past 5 years.   
“Hey Uncle Phil, looking pretty good for a dead guy.”


	30. Change

Phil hadn’t wanted to just waltz into the Avenger’s tower and scream ‘boo’ but he didn’t want all the cloak and dagger. His first thought had been of Pips and the quickest way to get to her. He knew that she wouldn’t be exactly happy to see him but if he could get through to her then he could start apologising as soon as possible. He knew that she wasn’t angry about the dying as much as the breaking of the promise. He had, in all fairness, promised to never leave her alone and then he went after Loki and didn’t come home. She was going to be so, so ticked.

They had driven up to their safe house, the one that was secret even from SHIELD and meant only for the two of them. They had picked it out together, a small hunting lodge about half an hour from the nearest village with a book shop and a bakery and little else. Both of them would have been happy to stay there as long as they needed but it was usually just a fleeting stop before moving further afield. When they arrived they went out to grab some wood and start the fire but they didn’t make small talk. They could usually manage to understand each other without speaking but it had been a long time since Pips had seen Phil and she was still annoyed at him. It was awkward but the only thing that could stop that would be to wait it out. Phil did try to talk to Pips but she didn’t want to know. She still trusted him with her life, she hadn’t tried to question him about what was going on because she knew that he would only ever try to help her. That didn’t mean that she had to like it, she knew she would survive if she did what he said and she also knew that she would be just as safe if she hated him. He let her feign exhaustion after dinner and she went to bed leaving Phil to plan getting both of them back to New York.

As it turned out he didn’t have to plan too hard, New York came to them. Somehow, in the middle of the night, all 6 of the Avengers turned up outside the lodge and started making their presence known. Pips made it outside before Phil did and waved sedately at her visitors.   
“Lady Pips, we are assembled here to remove you from your captors.” Announced Thor, fully kitted out in his battle armour with Mjolner held aloft. It was all Pips could do not to laugh.  
“What the Viking means is we’re here to save you princess to let’s get going.” Pips could never get used to hearing Stark’s humour through the ironman helmet.   
Pips shrugged. “But mighty Avengers, the evildoer is coming right this way. Hark, I hear his footsteps.” Tasha could barely keep a straight face but her training kicked in and her face went blank. Each of the Avengers moved into their battle positions and waited as the front door opened. Captain America and Black Widow ran forward until she threw her arm out to stop her leader going any further. Pips was with, Phil.

Phil explained everything, everything, once the Avengers were inside and there were pancakes on the table. There had been surgeries and rehab and therapy and Phil spent at least twenty minutes cursing Fury’s name, it even made Stark flinch. After he had finished his story he sat back and watched the rest of them absorb the shocking information presented to them. Barton had yet to look at Phil and he never moved more than an inch from Tasha side, eating slowly and not looking overly happy. 

“You died Phil, you died and it was my fault and now your here and you’re going to take Pips away, what, back to England or to some SHIELD base in the middle of nowhere and I’ll never see either of you ever again.” His outburst was partly expected but there was complete silence due to everyone holding their breath. Tony reacted first.  
“Look here bird brain, Pips has made it perfectly clear that it was not your fault and that you were under a mind altering state. Each time you bring that back up you push down every abuse victim, every rape victim so shut up Merida.” He nodded at Pips and she returned the gesture but Phil continued before she could.

“I promise not to go anywhere but the Tower with you, if you’ll have us. Barton, I may not work for SHIELD anymore but I’m not going to split and leave you, any of you. I’m sorry that I went after Loki alone and I’m sorry that it took me so long to get back but I’m here now and if we work together we can get things back to normal. Now what do you say?” There was still silence.   
“As team leader speak for the team and, I say, do you have any bacon to go with these pancakes or what?”


	31. Normal

As long as Pips could remember, normal had been an impossible, an unachievable illusion of fantasy that she could never quite reach. That was fine, really, Pips knew that it wouldn't happen and she wasn't going to wait around for it. Then it was offered up to her.

There had been talks and discussions with Phil and his girlfriend (an architect from Chicago who did move to Portland) about the current housing arrangement. Lauren had been cool and whilst she was no sort of replacement for Sophie she would make a rather good aunt. They wanted to move in together, to get a house with a white picket fence and a dog and they wanted Pips to live with them. Sure it was the one thing she'd been avoiding all her life but she could practically smell the sweet suburban air.  
Lauren broke up with Phil because she thought he wasn't committed to her and that she 'just couldn't trust him anymore'. Pips decided that she had never been fond the dream anyway. 

When she thought Phil had died Pips' life hit a speed bump. She had been fine not being normal but to this was rapidly approaching pitiful and she needed to avoid that. She didn't know how exactly but she knew it was necessary if she wanted to make it out the other side unharmed.  
Pips had been bowled over in shock and couldn't figure out which way was up. Phil had been her last chance at pseudo-normal, after him there was a dark unknown.   
She was saved, and she was so gracious for that honestly but it wasn't normal. How could normal even be considered when she lived in a tower owned, built and inhabited by superheroes. It was awesome and wondrous and extraordinary but it was unusual. It wasn't normal and it never would be because normal was at least a thousand miles back.

'Getting Phil back' was perhaps the wrong term. It did no justice to the facts or parties involved. And when Phil did return he was different. He had quit SHIELD, become enemies with the US government in general and gained a new position as Avengers Liaison that involved trusting an extra three people with his life, (although it could be argued that he had always trusted Captain America since childhood).

It was strange. It wasn't like living with Phil or with just the Avengers. The unusual mix was bizarre and puzzling and she was confused but generally it was good. Pips was surrounded by people she cared about and who cared about her in return.  
Pips thought it felt like home, friends and family everywhere. She even had people like Peter, who was still a little bit in awe of Phil, but not confused by her varied past. Of course he had no room to complain.

Pips was contemplating everything, taking stock of her situation, when Phil sat down next to her on the window seat.   
"No need to fret, I got Stark to take down the pictures." He grimaced and made a request for mind bleach and Pips realised how much she had missed his sense of humour.  
The picture in question had been from Sophie's orchestra charity calendar and had been of Sophie, and her cello. Just the cello.  
Somehow Stark had found the picture and was taunting both the Coulson's by displaying it on every single screen of the tower. Considering it was a building built by Tony Stark that was a lot of times Phil had almost seen his dead sister almost naked and he was going insane trying to walk round with his eyes closed.

"Am I normal?" Pips asked. Phil thought for a moment.  
"No, but then I suppose that nobody is so I suppose that everybody is." Pips scowled because she could get really annoyed with clever answers sometimes.  
"All of this though, this isn't normal. It never will be." Phil nodded clocking on to her train of thought.  
"The thing is though Flips, normal keeps changing. It doesn't mean the same as before." Pips huffed.  
"Then what is normal." Phil took longer to answer that time and stared out of the window at the winding cars below.  
"Are you happy. Are you safe. Do you look forward to waking up each morning and being around these people?" Pips nodded slowly, unsure of where he was going.  
"Then who cares about normal? I'd much rather have real,"


End file.
